Birds of a Feather
by dancer4813
Summary: "Thanks for picking up," said the sarcastic voice on the other end. "I didn't really want to leave a voicemail message, especially since you never listen to them." Telephone conversations between Mockingbird and Hawkeye (and occasionally Black Widow) during the 2nd half of Season 2 of Agents of SHIELD. Bobbi & Clint sibling relationship. Minor AOU spoilers in most recent chapter.
1. 2x12 - Who You Really Are

**This little lovely came about through looking up Bobbi Morse (Mockingbird) in the Marvel Comic Universe and discovering that apparently, in the comics, she and Clint had a thing. Now, I ship Huntingbird pretty hard (also meaning I'm devastated by the last two episodes in _that_ respect), and we've never seen Bobbi and Clint together, so my new headcanon goes something like this:**

**Bobbi meets Clint and they realize they like each other, but after a few months/whatever of dating on and off as SHIELD allows they discover that their feelings for each other _are_ love, but more of a sibling love than anything else. From there Bobbi moves on to Hunter and Clint meets Natasha, and we all know where it goes from there.**

**It was also partially inspired by charmed4lifekaren's story "A Family of Love, Not Blood", an AU fic still set in the Marvel universe where Clint, Bobbi, Fitz, and Skye are all adopted siblings working with SHIELD. I would definitely recommend reading it!**

**So, despite owning nothing of anything Marvel-related, here's a bit of Bobbi and Clint siblingry for my muse, and for your enjoyment!**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Bobbi pulled out her phone, spinning it between her fingers, debating her choice. She finally had a moment to herself – the first since they had brought in Lady Sif, the Asgardian warrior – and she needed to get her head aligned the right way again. There were too many conflicting emotions warring within her to do her job, and that needed to stop.

Making her decision, she jogged the rest of the way down the hall to her bunk and pulled the door shut. If there hadn't been the possibility that she would be needed to help take down the Kree a second time, she would have locked it as well, but she needed to be accessible enough to help the others if needed.

She typed in the number she knew by heart, praying that it still worked, but hesitated before pressing the "call" button. She knew Mack wanted to talk to her; would he think she was avoiding him? She wasn't going against the plan, wasn't going to disclose information, but if he found out she was talking to someone else about it… He'd been unhappy enough when she wanted to pull Hunter in on it, and if he learned she was contacting someone off-base about it, let alone one of SHIELD's top operatives in the past…

"What the hell," she whispered to herself, pressing the green button.

* * *

The ring of a mobile phone punctuated the calm air, causing the two residents of the farm house to spring up, wary.

"Who has your number?" the redhead asked, fingers twitching near the pistol she always kept in her pocket, her quick eyes darting all over the house. The phone rang again, the noise aggravating in the still night air.

The blond shook his head, lowering the arrow he'd put to the bow, answering the call and putting it on speaker.

_"Thanks for picking up,"_ said the sarcastic voice on the other end. _"I didn't really want to leave a voicemail message, especially since you never listen to them."_

"Bobbi?" Clint asked, swiftly scooping up the phone and turning off speaker, shooing away Natasha as she made to follow him. She rolled her eyes in a you'd-better-tell-me-all-about-it-later way and sat back down at the table, taking another sip of vodka from the glass she'd poured herself.

_"That's my name,"_ Bobbi said over the phone as Clint made his way to his bedroom. _"Do you have a minute to talk?"_

"It's not like I'm on a mission or anything after SHIELD fell," he reminded her, climbing out the window onto the roof. "It's been pretty quiet here, actually."

_"Are you still holed up at that farm Fury bought for you?"_

"Gotta love the farm," Clint said, smirking, as he laid out on the rough shingles of the roof. "And it was more Hill's idea than Fury's. He just provided the money, through SHIELD, of course. But what about you? Why'd you call?"

There was a few seconds of static before Bobbi sighed. _"Hunter."_

"That asshole again?" Clint groaned. "Bobs, I thought he was in England working as a merc. Don't tell me he's back in the States. Do I need to put an arrow through him again?"

_"Once was enough, Clint,"_ Bobbi said. _"We actually both ended up working for the same team now. I don't need you to intimidate or maim him, just give me advice."_

"Advice? You _never_ ask for advice."

"Shut up."

"You _don't_!"

"…"

"Oh come on, Bobbi," Clint said, drawing out her name. He waited for her to answer, but her silence only confirmed how she felt about the situation. "Okay, Bobs, I'm listening. What's up?"

_"He wants to commit to a relationship."_

"And that's bad _because_? I thought that was what you wanted."

She sighed again, _"I don't know if it's going to work. Because-"_ she paused._ "because of _me._"_

"I thought Hunter's problem was your association with SHIELD. If SHIELD fell, there's nothing to be worried about. I know you of all people will be able to stick it out."

_"But it's _more_ than that,"_ Bobbi said emphatically. _"I'm keeping secrets from him."_

"We all know how much he hates secrets," Clint muttered scoffing. "But what kind of secrets? How can you _still_ have secrets after Tasha released every SHIELD file to the public?" When Bobbi didn't answer, he sighed. "Can you tell _me_ the secret?"

_"No can do. Classified."_

"Classified? By who?"

_"That's classified too."_

"Bobbi, I can't help you if I don't-"

_"How did you and Natasha do it?"_

"Do what?"

_"Oh, don't play coy with me, bird brain," _she teased, bringing a smile to his face._ "Everyone could see you two were a thing from miles away. How did you keep secrets from each other while in your relationship?"_

"You got me," he teased. "But we only made it work by having the mutual understanding that some details of some missions weren't able to be shared, and something tells me Hunter won't be up for that."

Bobbi groaned softly, "He won't."

"Is it a big secret?"

_ "The biggest."_

"And will there be a fallout if he finds out?"

_ "There's about a ninety-percent chance that it will blow up in my face, regardless of whether he finds out or not. And it's rising every day I keep it from him."_

Clint rubbed a hand over his face. "Meaning you've been hiding this for a while now?"

_ "Long enough that when he finds out it will be more likely than not to cause serious problems."_

* * *

Bobbi heard Clint sigh on the other end of the line and scooted back to lean against the headboard, trying to dismiss the memories of earlier that morning, in the same place on the bed. She shook off thoughts of her fingers trailing over defined muscles and the physical and emotional warmth radiating off him after… No, she needed to stay focused. She couldn't compromise the situation now, not when they were so close.

"I want to have a steady relationship, but it's not going to work, _again_, and it really is my fault this time."

_ "You can't even give him a clue?"_

"I've already started pushing him away again," she admitted.

_ "Miss Ice Queen made an appearance already?"_

"It's enough coming from Hunter every five minutes, do you think you could lay off?" Bobbi snapped.

_"Only if you make me, little sis,"_ Clint quipped, making her grin despite herself. _"Besides, I thought Hunter only complained about his "psycho hell beast of an ex-wife" when he was horny."_

"You forgot demonic," Bobbi deadpanned, her smile widening when Clint laughed.

_"How's that different from 'hell beast'? You're the "demonic psycho hell beast" who nearly killed him in his sleep."_

"You know I never did that."

_ "But we both know you _wanted_ to."_

"No comment."

Clint chuckled again, then his voice took a more serious tone. _"Bobs, I can't give you all the answers, especially because I don't know all the details. But I do know that you'll figure it out in the end. And please, feel free to call. I've missed your voice for the past few months."_

"Undercover work has that drawback," Bobbi said, nodding, a small smile still on her face.

_"Undercover work for who?"_

"Still classified, even for one of "Earth's Mightiest Heroes"."

_"I had to try."_

"Sure you did," she commented with a chuckle. "Anyway, I've got to get back to work."

_"At this time of night?"_

"It's not _that _late, it's only- hey, you were trying to figure out where I was!"

_"No I wasn't,"_ Clint said in a mock-innocent voice.

Bobbi scoffed, and she imagined his grin. "Hate you, Big Bird," she joked, earning herself a loud groan.

_ "Anything but that! Come on, Bobs!"_

"Just kidding, bird brain. Love you. And thanks."

_ "No problem, little bird. And I love you too." _

Letting a small smile slip onto her face, Bobbi hung up. Feeling lighter, she made her way to where Mack had told her to meet him and hoped that soon she'd be able to get the mess she was in sorted out.


	2. 2x13 - One of Us

**Takes place during 2x13 - "One of Us"**

* * *

_"Is that Bobbi? Tell her I take it all back- the 'don't die out there' stuff-"_

_ "-Sorry-" _There was the slamming of a door, some muffled yelling, then-

_ "Hope she rots in hell!"_

Bobbi tried to tell herself that he didn't mean it, that Hunter was just bitching around like he usually did – that he was just running his mouth off to make her feel guilty.

The trouble was that it _was_ completely her fault for not telling him, and now he was taking the fall for it. She locked her tears away behind her façade usually saved for undercover work and threw away the mental key.

"I never wanted this."

_"No one did,"_ Mack said, _"But I've got no exit strategy and the longer I'm gone the more questions Coulson's gonna have."_

"We'll bring him in," she decided, slumping a bit more against the wall. "Sit tight. I'll arrange an extraction."

It wasn't the best choice, and she was pretty sure Hunter would never forgive her regardless of whether he learned the truth or not, but it was the only choice available after Mack's explosion. _Why_ had he felt the need to beat Hunter up? She could have talked to him and perhaps the whole thing could have blown over. As it was, Hunter seemed to be restrained somewhere in the safe house, and he was seriously pissed off.

_ "And you'll know where I'll be."_

"And Mack?" she asked, heading down the hall to her room, wanting to yell but keeping her voice low, "Get him a beer or something."

A drunk Hunter was generally an amiable, even if not _happy_, Hunter and even though he might not eat or drink anything Mack offered him after the stunt he'd pulled, Bobbi hoped he'd appreciate the gesture all the same.

* * *

The phone in his pocket rang, startling a deer he'd had in his sights despite the quiet tone. He'd taken to carrying the mobile around with him since his pseudo-sister had called and, though he hadn't expected her to call him again so soon, he couldn't deny the warmth in his chest that was kindled when he saw her number pop up on the screen.

"'Ello. Eye of the Hawk speaking."

_"I am _so_ glad you picked up."_

There was something off in her tone of voice that made him frown. "Are you alright?"

_"No, I'm not okay,"_ she said shortly, and he imagined her scowl.

"Did Hunter find out about that classified secret he wasn't supposed to find out about?"

_"More or less,"_ Bobbi sighed. _"And everything exploded. With a force pretty comparable to that of a nuclear bomb."_

"Sounds like fun," Clint said, adjusting his seat in the tree he was perched in. "But if he hurt you, I might need to come in and shoot him again, unless I could do it while he's out getting groceries or something? Maybe while he's on a merc job and make it look like an accident?"

Bobbi was silent for a few moments too long.

"Bobs, what's wrong?" he asked, and he heard a deep breath in and out through the line. "Bobbi, talk to me. What's wrong, little bird?"

_"My…_partner_ had to take him in," _Bobbi said, seeming to choose her words carefully. _"Hunter confronted him about the secrets we were keeping and he – my partner – he has a few anger issues."_

Clint winced silently. Anger issues caused problems no matter what kind of secrets were being kept, and the way she said it… he hoped the Brit wasn't dead. He wasn't a terrible person, as much as Clint liked to tease Bobbi about it, and she _did _have feelings for him. "Ouch. So, not the ideal reaction."

_"Hardly."_

"Have you gotten a chance to try and work it out with him?" Clint asked, running a hand through his hair. "There might be the _slightest_ chance he'll forgive you, if he's not too pissed-"

_"Does him shouting that he 'hopes I rot in hell' count as working it out?"_ Bobbi deadpanned, and he heard the defeat in her voice even as he felt a ripple of relief knowing the (former?) merc wasn't pushing daisies. _"Clint, I have no idea how this is going to work out."_

* * *

_"You sure got yourself in a mess o' trouble,"_ she heard him say through the speaker at her ear, and she leaned her head against the wall, trying to refrain from punching it. Anger had already caused enough damage and hurting her hand wouldn't do anyone on the team any good, least of all herself.

"You think I don't know that, Clint?" she asked, biting at her words. "Lance has gotten himself knocked out by someone he thought was a friend and thinks I'm _in on it_."

_"To be fair, you were in on it to begin with."_

"Clint," she warned, forcing his name through gritted teeth. "Shut it."

_"Just tellin' it like it is, sister."_

"Cut it out," she said softly, losing her fight somewhat. "It's just-"

He waited long enough for her to find the words to say, and she couldn't be more grateful to him for that. It had already been a stressful few days, and now the plan she'd made with Mack was falling down around her, shattering into smaller and smaller pieces. There was no hope of proceeding as they had planned to – in her venture with Mack or her relationship with Hunter.

"I'm dedicated to the secret I was keeping, but at the same time I wanted something, something-"

_"Tangible?"_ Clint offered.

Bobbi sighed, turning so her back was to the wall and sinking to the floor. "You hit the nail on the head, Hawk Man. Again. How are you so good at that?"

_"Experience, practice, trial-and-error. But mostly experience."_

"With Natasha?"

_"And you."_

She chuckled half-heartedly, dropping her forehead into her free hand. "And we all know just how well _that_ worked out."

_"Pretty well, in my book," _Clint said. She scoffed. _"Come on, we still talk, right? Better than some exes, for sure."_

She tried to keep from smiling at that.

"But you're not tangible at all. Right now, to me, you're sound waves that turn into radio waves that bounce into space and come down to my phone only to become sound waves again. That's the _point_. It's why I can't do long-distance relationships, why Hunter and I didn't work out the first time around," she rambled, about to start it up again when he interrupted.

_"I love when you talk nerdy to me, Miss Biochemist."_

She groaned, but laughed and smiled her first real smile of the day. "Seriously. Shut it."

He was silent for a few moments before he spoke again.

_"I'd advise full, or at least partial disclosure,"_ he said finally, and her heart sank, even though she knew that was pretty much her only option in the situation they were in. _"Barring that, you need to at least be honest with him about your feelings, no matter how hard it is to actually admit them. I would know – that was one of the big struggles in mine and Tasha's relationship for a long while, but once our intentions were all out in the open… It was amazing how much that helped us solidify what we were trying to accomplish."_

"And if that's not an option?" she muttered, wanting to hit the wall again. "He'll never forgive me for this."

_ "You'll never know if you don't try," _he said in a sing-song voice.

"I'm ninety-nine point nine percent sure it's not an option," she said, unamused. "Hunter doesn't take any sort of secret easily, and he doesn't do that sappy love crap."

_"But you do?"_

She groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose up to the center of her forehead vigorously for a few seconds. "Are you saying that you and Natasha _do_ do "that sappy love crap" together?"

_"Only when we're in a sappy, kinda' crappy kind of mood."_

"So all the time."

_"I didn't say _that_."_

"Please," she said, laughing again. "Everyone _knows _you two have sad puppy eyes for each other when you're apart longer that five minutes. I'm actually surprised you haven't headed back to her by now. Surely she's more exciting than little old me."

_"Little bird, I'm currently _living_ with the spider and I haven't talked to you since yesterday. Or the day before. Whatever. Right now, you're more important."_

As strong as she wanted to feel, she couldn't help the tears coming to rest just behind her eyelids. She wished Clint was there to give her a hug, or at least pat her on the back or something. Her intimate moment with Hunter little more than forty-eight hours previous felt like weeks, if not months, earlier. Perhaps it wasn't good for a spy for a super-secret organization to be so touchy-feely, but everyone has their weakness.

She sighed again, then cursed under her breath as she heard footsteps coming down the hall to her room, not slowing as they approached her room at the end of the corridor.

"Listen birdbrain, I've got to go," she said, regretful.

_"You'll sort it out, little bird,"_ Clint said just as a knock sounded on her door.

* * *

_"Just a moment!"_ he heard her call before she whispered a farewell to him. _"And Clint, thanks for listening."_

"No trouble at all, Bobs," he said, a smile on his face as he heard the phone click to signal the end of the call.

He sat for a few minutes in the silence of the forest, his feet still braced against the trunk of the tree to keep him from sliding down. Even though he would never admit it to anyone, he cared a lot for his "little sister" and only wanted her to be alright. Not that there was much he could do in her present situation.

He only hoped she would be able to sort things out before they got so screwed up they wouldn't be able to be fixed.

* * *

**Well, your reviews and favorites (and last week's episode, "One of Us") convinced me to write more, so even though I'm leaving this collection of oneshots up as "completed", it's going to be added to whenever inspiration strikes and I write another thousand words or so. ;) **

**That being said, if you guys have any great ideas about what I could write next (in canon with the show or not), I'd be happy to consider it! And I'm super psyched for tonight's episode: "Love in the Time of HYDRA", especially because my roommate is all caught up and we get to fangirl about it together... Good times. **

**Thanks, as always, for reading, and I love you all!**

**~Dancer**


	3. 2x14 - Love in the Time of HYDRA

**Set during 2x14 - "Love in the Time of HYDRA"**

* * *

"So we don't know where he is. Or where he's going."

"Once he reaches shore, he's a free man, able to communicate with whomever he pleases. We approximate twelve hours until he reaches the coast."

Bobbi felt like yelling for the third time since Hunter had confronted her. _Why_ was he such a pain in the ass? He probably didn't even realize what he was getting himself into. Either that or he knew all too well and didn't care.

"We may have a bigger problem," Agent Gonzales said as he took his seat. "I just got off the phone with Mack. Seems Coulson's put Skye into hiding."

Personally, Bobbi had to admit a feeling of relief at the discovery. Not only had Mack been a bit less than subtle leaving the base with no warning, but Coulson wasn't stupid (despite his questionable actions), nor was Melinda "the Cavalry" May. They would have found out sooner or later that Mack was hiding _something_ and gone on to expect the worst, and Skye was in the most danger regardless of which group was after them.

She hoped Skye was off the map, for the girl's own sake. Bobbi hadn't been lying when she said she thought Skye was a rock star – the young woman had an amazing spirit despite the many difficulties she'd been faced with and Bobbi didn't want to add another disruption to her already fragmented existence. If there was anyone who needed to be left out of the crossfire for once in her life it was the hacker.

"Stockpiling enhanced people?"

Bobbi refrained from rolling her eyes. Perhaps it was better for them that Skye was out of the picture – Gonzales and the others knew little to nothing about the earthquake powers Skye had received from the Diviner and Bobbi wanted it to stay that way. An unexplained earthquake while she was trying to take Fury's toolbox and get out unnoticed and preferably unscathed would be difficult to explain away, and even Coulson's team knew hardly anything about the extent of Skye's powers. But Skye was so much more than an "enhanced person"; Bobbi had learned that during her stay with the team.

"I doubt that," she commented, thinking fast. "Skye and Coulson, they're close. She's more than just some asset to him."

Carefully fabricating a lie out of the truth. Clint would be proud.

"So says the person whose ex-husband just flew the coop."

Of course it was Calderon. He had been one of the first recruits into the "real SHIELD" project, but even after months she was questioning Gonzales' choice. Admittedly, she had never gotten to know him very well before going undercover with Coulson, and he had valid reasons to be suspicious of her motivations, but she was sick and tired of people fighting against her when all she was trying to do was help them.

Was it really so hard for everyone to believe her, trust her? Probably. She might have been a double agent, a triple agent – hell if she knew anymore – but she wasn't working solely for one side or another. Natasha had taught her that during their first meeting – that sometimes one's own agenda was more important and efficient that any one person or organization's. Bobbi guarded her secrets carefully, she knew that, but this particular man never failed to get her wound up.

"Calderon," Gonzales warned.

"Oh, come on!" the younger man exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "We all know Bobbi could have taken out that tea cup _anytime_ she wanted-"

"I might just have to test that theory out on your face," she snapped, struggling to keep from losing her temper. The man's implications that Hunter was someone to be taken out did not sit well with her. He might be a pain in the ass nine times out of ten, but he was her pain in the ass regardless of whether they were on good terms or not.

"Enough," Gonzales interrupted softly. "Bobbi gave me her word she's still committed, and I have no reason to doubt her."

He gave Calderon a hard look and the man shifted uncomfortably, finally giving up and taking a seat on the opposite side of the table.

"This is your op, Morse," Gonzales said, turning to address her. "So how do you want to proceed?"

"Skye's not the main concern," Bobbi said truthfully. _At least, not for this organization._ "Coulson and his secrets – that's the threat. And I think it's time that we remove that threat."

She thought for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "I want to go back in."

"You've gotta be crazy," Calderon mumbled. "You know that Hunter could blow your cover any moment. And Weaver? She gave you twelve hours."

Inwardly, Bobbi winced even as she felt a surge of frustration towards Calderon's lack of faith in her abilities. He had been the one to sit around base while she was undercover. She'd made the decision long ago, when SHIELD had initially fell and he'd only jumped on board with them after the fact. Agents Weaver and Gonzales, Mack, the others who had banded together to form the "real SHIELD", they were the ones she'd pledged herself to from the start.

Unfortunately, she knew his original accusations weren't entirely unfounded. Coulson's team had grown on her. There weren't as many secrets as she had originally thought, at least not held by Coulson himself. And she had spent months first alongside Jemma then the rest of the team, getting to know them and understand them as more than just people – as agents who had lost the same things she had when SHIELD fell, if not more. Still…

"I only need six."

She made eye contact with every member of the team, careful to keep her gaze steady and her face blank even though confused emotions were churning on the inside.

"That settles it then," Gonzales said with a nod. "Head out, Morse. The sooner this is all over the better."

Bobbi nodded curtly to Gonzales and the other agents, stood, and exited the room. The cold sea breeze whipped across her face as she made her way to the Quinjet she'd borrowed from the Playground and she took a deep breath, letting it out as she climbed aboard the small aircraft. She buckled herself in and, after a short discussion with the people on comms, they allowed her to take off without any hassle.

It was only after an hour when she was sure she was out of range of their monitoring and reasonably confident they wouldn't need to contact her that she took off her headset and turned off all unnecessary communication equipment. She set the autopilot for the Playground and, once she was satisfied, grabbed her mobile and dialed the number that was so familiar to her, the silent tears on her cheeks drying as more welled up in her eyes.

* * *

Clint woke to the ringing of his phone and pulled a knife out from under his pillow, checking the whole room before answering the call. Screw a restful sleep. If Bobbi was calling him at almost two in the morning (even taking into account time zone discrepancies), something wasn't right.

"Bobbi?" he asked, a small amount of concern leaking through his voice. "Are you alright?"

_"Clint,"_ Bobbi croaked, and the archer was alarmed to hear her choked voice, immediately assuming the worst.

"Who has you? Where are they-"

_"I'm alone, you stupid bird brain," _she interrupted, and he heard her breathing deeply on the other end of the line. _"I just need to talk."_

"Is it about Hunter again?"

_"It always seems to be," _she said, chuckling weakly. _"And it is, in a way, I suppose…"_

He waited a few moments to continue, but when she didn't he prompted her. "Is this about that secret you were hiding?"

Bobbi sighed. _"Yeah,"_ she admitted. _"I have something I need to do because of it, but it'll be a betrayal of trust."_

"That's how being a spy works, Bobs," Clint pointed out, though he empathized strongly with her. "Betrayal is a part of life, just like secrets are."

_"But that's the problem," _Bobbi said, sounding frustrated. _"Here I am, keeping secrets about how my superiors don't like other people keeping secrets, and it's led to a whole mountain of trouble. Hunter's gone off the map, my friend is compromised, and I have six hours to take out people I count as friends because of my loyalty to comrades."_

Clint grimaced and slid out of bed, heading to the kitchen. Whatever Bobbi was doing sounded a hell of a lot more serious than she'd had him thinking before. Bobbi was loyal to those who had earned her loyalty, he knew that from months of working with her undercover and on other missions before Natasha had been assigned as his partner; it was the one part of her that, at her core, never seemed to change. She had an inherent belief in the goodness of people, something most who worked in their profession had lost, and she always managed to surprise him.

"Are you still going to do it?"

_"I've got no choice anymore. I'm committed."_

"You always have a choice, Bobbi," he said, pouring himself a small glass of the vodka Natasha had left behind when she headed back to Washington for a few days. "It's what you do with it that matters."

_"But I'm not sure what to do with it. I've already betrayed Hunter by keeping secrets from him, and the rest of the te- the rest of them are good people."_

"I don't doubt it," Clint nodded, though she couldn't see him. "Now you just need to decide who's way is better. Does the "taking out" require termination?"

_"Preferably not."_

"In your book or your superior's?"

_"It doesn't matter,"_ she snapped. _"I'm getting in and out without killing them."_

"And if you're forced to?"

_"It won't come to that," _she denied, adamant. _"I know them."_

Clint sighed, taking another swig of the liquor. "Bobs, sometimes casualties are unavoidable. You can't save everyone."

_"I can try."_

* * *

She delivered the words without thinking, and winced when they had left her mouth. The words were true – she _would_ do her best to ensure everything worked out smoothly with minimal injuries or casualties. She thought of Coulson's acceptable number of deaths at zero – incredibly unlikely, but not a terrible goal to strive for. Not if they could be avoided.

_"I know you'll try Bobs, I'm just trying to be realistic here."_

Bobbi sighed. "I know." She tried to remind herself that Clint knew nothing about Coulson, about the rebirth of SHIELD, about anything that had to do with her situation, but it still hurt.

_"You know, you could always run away and come live with me,"_ he joked, making the corners of her lips turn up ever so slightly.

"Wouldn't that contradict Fury's orders? It's one of his safe house, isn't it?"

_"Fury and his orders be damned," _Clint said, scoffing. _"I'm not taking orders from a dead man, even if he was a mentor of sorts."_

"I wouldn't put it past him to rise up from his grave to keep us from potentially compromising one of his safe houses."

_"Mmm," _Clint agreed with a chuckle. _"Remember the one in Sri Lanka, just outside that village neither of us can pronounce?"_

"You mean when I was there on a mission and gave Hunter the coordinates so he could stop by during his SAS work? I remember the lecture Fury gave me when I got back, though I still don't know how he found out about it."

_"Fury has his ways. And I'm pretty sure everyone who was at the Triskellion that day remembers the talk you got from him," _Clint said with a laugh. _"Tasha told me she was three floors down and she could hear it clear as crystal through the vents."_

"I wouldn't be surprised," Bobbi laughed, relaxing into her seat on the plane as it flew fast over waves that grew smaller and smaller beneath her as she headed towards land. "It was definitely one of the louder ones. Though I doubt it topped when you brought Natasha in."

_"You mean after Reykjavík? When she was still a Widow and I didn't go through with the kill order? Yeah, that's definitely one to remember."_

"I heard you were in his office for two hours getting grilled."

_"It was thirty minutes, tops!" _Clint argued in his defense. _"And most of that time was me explaining to him just what happened."_

"Shall I ask Natasha what happened?"

_"She was in custody – she has no idea what went down!"_

"Wanna bet?" Bobbi teased, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around a finger. Her attention was distracted from Clint's next words by a beeping on the console that told her she was entering SHIELD radar range and that it was almost time to begin the descent, therefore unable to rely on autopilot.

_"Bobbi? Bobbi, are you still there?"_ Clint was asking on the phone when her mind turned back to the speaker in her hand.

"Yeah, I'm here," she said, her voice dropping. "I just- it's almost time for me to go."

She wished she could stay on the phone, or even take up Clint's offer to join him in the farm in upstate New York. Nearly anything would be preferable to the betrayal she was about to commit. If only she could hide from her problems and leave them trampled in the dust. Unfortunately, she knew she could never bring herself to do that. Her people needed her, even if she wasn't quite sure who "her people" were anymore.

_"I know you'll figure it out, little bird," _Clint assured her. _"If anyone can do this, it's you."_

"Thank you for your faith, bird brain," she shot back half-heartedly. She sighed, putting the phone on speaker and switching off the autopilot to put the plane back in manual control.

_"Anything for you, young grasshopper."_

"How did we get from birds to grasshoppers?"

_"It's from "Kung Fu"- Oh, never mind," _he lamented, and she imagined him shaking his head in defeat. _"I'll just have to show it to you when we see each other again. Hopefully that's sooner rather than later. You know, the list keeps adding up. We'll be up for a week catching you up on pop culture."_

"Not so pop anymore, I'm sure," Bobbi quipped with a faint smile. "But someday, when no part of the world is coming to an end, we'll be able to sit back and actually watch all of these shows and movies you keep telling me about."

She let her hand hover over the switch to turn on communications. "Until then, bird brain."

_"Until then, grasshopper," _Clint said warmly before he hung up, the screen on her phone darkening.

She let the smile she'd kept up fall slightly as she fell back into her agent of SHIELD mentality while talking on comms, making sure it was alright to land. It had been wonderful to forget for a few blissful minutes, but she had to get back into her job as an agent. Get in, get Fury's toolbox, get out.

Still, it would be difficult to actually avoid confrontation. Agent Koenig was ruthless with security detail and know relatively quickly if something suspicious was going on. She hoped she would be able to avoid most of the other agents on Coulson's team though. She wasn't looking forward to the customary check-in she had to do with the man when she entered the base either.

The Mockingbird took a few moments to breathe as she parked the plane and prepared to exit, letting her professional persona fall over her features with each inhale and exhale.

Bobbi thought briefly of Fitz, the young engineer whom Mack had befriended. The mechanic's loss would hit him hard, especially after he'd been getting so much better after the hypoxia he'd struggled with. And Jemma Simmons, a biochemist like herself, who was strong in her own way – strong enough to stand behind her opinion, strong enough to go undercover despite only being a scientist, not trained as a specialist. Both of them were so innocent, and they'd both been through so much together. She had already decided she wasn't going to get them involved.

Not if she could help it.

The Mockingbird gathered her gear and walked down the steps to the base, her eyes and steps light, her focus sharp and determined.

* * *

**This particular chapter/oneshot was much more difficult for me to write than the others. It was partially the lack of context we have in the episode and partially my inability to tap into Bobbi's character when I started writing (resulting in a few drafts and a lot of revision). Thankfully, I figured it out. This one is a little different than the previous two – there is a lot more of Bobbi introspection, since she keeps herself so guarded in this episode except for her encounter with Hunter before he bolts, and I wanted to explore that guardedness as a basis for her call to Clint.**

**So I got a bit more into her character, and into her background with Clint and as her own person. My headcanon for her is that she really is "loyal to a fault", and so I slipped a bit of that in. And I wanted to create a little distinction between Bobbi as "Bobbi Morse" and Bobbi as "the Mockingbird", so you'll see that. Also, Clint knows about Fury (from Natasha), just a little fyi for you guys, so keep a look out for that. ;)**

**I also have to thank Paper Towns (by John Green) and my Intro to Psychology class I'm taking right now for giving me the necessary ideas and inspiration to finish this particular section - and make it almost twice as long!**

**Thanks to everyone for their ideas - I'll probably get around to writing those either after Season 2 is finished or here and there if I have time, so keep the ideas coming! As always, thank you so much for reading! Any comments or questions? Just stick them in a review!**

**~Dancer**


	4. 2x15 - One Door Closes

**Set after 2x15 – "One Door Closes"**

* * *

Bobbi helped Agent Calderon down the hall of The Playground's entrance from the hanger, his right arm around her shoulders, his left hanging limply at his side. She'd been able to triage his wound on the Quinjet they took back to base, but there were almost definitely splinters of wood left in the gash and it was likely to be infected if he didn't get proper treatment soon.

They walked together past the lab, where everything was much busier than it had been in weeks, and continued on to the medical area where Mack was still being monitored for his concussion. They came through the doors, Jemma spinning around as they did. Bobbi kept her eyes averted from the scientist's face as she detailed the extent of his injuries and the cause. Her eyes only flickered up when she mentioned Skye's involvement and Jemma gasped softly, her eyes widening before her professional façade returned.

"Don't worry, Agent Calderon, we'll get you all fixed up," she said in a mockery of a relaxed tone; it was over-bright and far too cheery.

Bobbi walked over to Mack's bed as Jemma took the man over to an empty cot. The man was simply lying, staring at the ceiling, though he glanced over at her as she came up to his bedside.

"How are you?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice from sounding strained.

"Been better," he grumbled. "You seen Fitz around?"

She shook her head. "Not since I came in. We only just got back."

"Did you get Skye?" he asked, and Bobbi had a hard time deciphering his tone. It could have been eager or wary or apprehensive, or any combination of the three.

She shook her head again. "She got away, the same as her father – with the man who can teleport." Bobbi neglected to mention Skye's use of her powers. She _really_ wasn't in the mood to debate with Mack and was very sure that if she said anything about the girl's (seemingly unintentional) attack on them she wouldn't hear the end of it until she left. Besides, the shockwave might have thrown her back, but the bruises wouldn't be anything more than would have come about from a usual fight.

"Shame. We could have used her ability."

Tired and overwrought, Bobbi fought her instinct to flinch at his callous tone and nodded silently. She was loathe to debate semantics with the man, but Skye was far more than just her newfound ability to shake the ground – or the air, apparently.

They were silent together for a few moments, Bobbi's gaze drifting over to where Jemma was cleaning out the gash on Calderon's shoulder. Her body still ached slightly from the electric shock Jemma had sent through her, but at the same time Bobbi couldn't help but feel proud of the younger agent. Jemma Simmons had come a long way since going undercover at HYDRA.

"You look exhausted," Mack said, interrupting her thoughts. Her eyes flicked back to him and she saw he was smirking.

"I feel a bit worse than that," she replied, forcibly drawing her lips into a smile. "Nearly forty hours awake with no rest will do that to you."

"You should go to bed."

Bobbi opened her mouth to argue, but no words came to mind and she was left staring dumbly at him.

"You got debrief?" he asked when she didn't answer.

"Did it on the plane," she replied. "Video link."

"Then get your sorry ass in bed, Bobbi," Mack advised. "No one's gonna need you for a while now Gonzales has taken over operations. They're still sorting out all the equipment and transportation, and nobody's going out on missions of any sort for a time. Take a nap, and I'll let anyone know where you are if they need you. Good?"

Bobbi shook her head to get her mind back in gear and nodded to Mack. "That sounds like a really good idea."

"I've been known to have them at times," he replied.

She laughed, a grin forming on her face. It was almost like old times.

"You'll send someone to get me if I'm needed?"

"Cross my heart," Mack said, drawing an invisible "X" over his heart with a finger. "Now go get some rest. You're dead on your feet."

_And sweaty, and starved..._ She added in her head, but outwardly she just nodded again, whispering a quiet "Thanks" to the mechanic before exiting the medical area and going to her room.

After a lengthy shower in the adjoined bathroom during which she probably used all the hot water in the base, Bobbi was feeling much more like herself. Her mind was busy and various thoughts swirled around behind her eyelids when she let them close, the activity keeping her from relaxing fully into sleep.

Instead she grabbed a protein bar from her stash in the bedside table drawer and pulled out her phone, contemplating it for a moment. On one hand it would be nice to talk to Clint, and he would want to know she was okay after her last call, but at the same time she wasn't sure she was ready to bare her soul as she knew would happen if she called him up. Had Hunter been there she would have invited him over for the night and locked up her other emotions behind passion and lust as she usually did, but that wasn't an option, not with Hunter MIA. Or AWOL, she wasn't sure what escaping from a joint organization of an organization one didn't even work for qualified as.

She slid her finger over the screen where Clint's number was displayed proudly and hit the green "call" button before she changed her mind.

* * *

Clint picked up the phone on its second ring, sending an apologetic look to Natahsa, who waved him off.

"Talk to her," she said, taking a sip of alcohol most people would agree was far too strong for six-in-the-morning shots. "She probably needs you more than I do right now."

The archer had told her the extremely rough outline of what his quasi-sister was going through, and it was obvious she would need his support, especially after the call she'd shared with him earlier that day, in the early hours of the morning. The Widow might have been scoping out potential hideouts for the Winter Soldier, aka Bucky Barnes, in Vermont and New Hampshire alongside Captain America and the Falcon, and old, unpleasant memories might have resurfaced, but she was Russian she told herself, and she could handle waiting a few minutes longer to share her tales of woe.

"Calling me again, so soon?" he asked, trying and ultimately failing to put a light tone in his voice. Her last call had been less than six hours earlier, and he knew sometime in the last six hours shit had hit the proverbial fan. He was partially grateful she was calling him back so soon – she had to know he was worried about her – but he suspected she would be utterly exhausted.

"_Need an outlet,"_ she murmured, and it was obvious she was bone-tired.

"Sounds to me like you need a nap."

"_That would be nice, too,"_ she agreed, _"But my mind won't let me do that for a while longer."_

Clint understood. There had been many times he had returned from an undercover op, too tired to move, but unable to relax fully, his senses still alert for any sign of movement, any trace of a sound, any hint of deception apart from his own.

"Anything you've been cleared for that you can get off your chest?"

"_Not as such," _she said with a sigh. _"But I know how to complain about coworkers without giving out names."_

He laughed along with her and the tension was lifted for just a moment. "You've certainly had enough practice."

"_Not my fault," _she shot back, though not with her usual sharpness. _"I'm just the one who gets stuck with all the assholes."_

"Have you met Tony Stark?" he asked, and he heard Natasha's laugh from the other room.

"Are we talking about how he's a jackass?" she called over, her voice steady despite the amount of alcohol she'd consumed.

"We are!" he shouted back, and he heard Bobbi's chuckle on the other end of the line. "Anything to add?"

"Meh, that pretty much covers it," she said, entering the room with her glass held between two fingers. "Though I'm always happy to insult the man of iron. _How_ did you and Bobbi get on this topic?"

Clint put the phone on speaker and set in on the coffee table. "Frustrating assholes of colleagues."

"Ugh. Don't even get me started," Natasha moaned, knocking back another swig of the vodka.

Bobbi chuckled again, and Clint smiled.

"Anyway, who's the jerk of a coworker, Bobs?" he asked.

Bobbi groaned. _"He thinks he's the only one who knows how to get anything done, and questions every single instruction. He's a bigot and, for some reason, thinks he's above everyone else in our group. And he tried to take out a target instead of bringing her in."_

Clint met Natasha's eyes and nodded shortly at the same time she did – both of them heard the vernacular of a SHIELD agent slip into Bobbi's words, and he wondered just who she was working for.

"Did he compromise the assignment?" Natasha asked, looking interested.

Bobbi was silent until she took a deep, shuddering breath. _"Well, she got away…"_

"But," Clint prompted.

_"But there was a part of me that wanted her to escape. She- we were friends until we- I-"_

"Until you betrayed her," Natasha threw in, not knowing all the details, but easily connecting the dots. "You still felt a responsibility to her."

_"Yeah,"_ Bobbi affirmed, _"She was like a younger sister- I'm still not sure how to feel."_

Her voice broke and though Clint noted the past tense and wanted to ask about this "adopted member" of their little family, he knew it wasn't the right time to ask.

"Sometimes you never figure it out," Clint said, sinking back into the couch slightly, his arms crossed over his chest. He shot a glance at Natasha, but the redhead had her eyes fixed on the phone on the table.

"And sometimes you never need to," she said, draining the rest of her glass. "Which makes the whole situation either simpler or infinitely more complicated. Good luck, Bobbi."

* * *

"Thanks," Bobbi replied, feeling awkward. She hadn't expected Clint to keep her situation from Natasha, but that didn't mean it wasn't strange to hear the older woman's remarks. Her tone of voice spoke of experience and lots of it – more than Bobbi could ever hope to have, not that she wasn't experienced in her own way.

_"Anything else bothering you, little bird?"_ Clint asked, his voice distant due to the fact the phone had been put on speaker.

She had no idea how to answer that question. There were so many things running through her head, not least the events that had led up to her joining and founding the "Real SHIELD". Fury's mission for her, Hartley's gung-ho attitude about killing HYDRA agents, the debate between herself and Gonzales about whether to sink the boat or not – the memories of SHIELD's fall were coming back in waves, nearly (but not quite) drowning out the betrayed looks of Coulson's team, the disappointment expressed by May, and the brief shot of fear that had filled her when she had seen Calderon's loaded pistol that most certainly _wasn't_ an ICER.

"I've been thinking about the fall," she finally said. It was a relief to know neither of the people she was talking with needed that explained. "About Fury, about SHIELD."

_"Fury gave you a mission too, did he?" _Natasha asked, sounding unsurprised. _"Good to know he trusted you, Bobbi. Though you didn't have to chase the "Star-Spangled Man With a Plan" all around the East Coast, did you?"_

"Not quite," Bobbi said, feeling a smile pull at her lips. "It was more of a suicide operation, really. Rescue Commander Gonzales before HYDRA could get their hands on him and take out the Iliad, the cargo ship he was commanding, before HYDRA could get their hands on SHIELD's weapons. Thankfully, the op didn't go quite as planned."

_"Thank god," _she heard Clint mutter.

_"Gonzales was good,"_ Natasha affirmed. _"He rose to Commander relatively quickly. He was determined and driven. It's nice to know he's still alive." _

Bobbi murmured her assent, not wanting to give too much away. She wasn't sure how Clint and Natasha would respond if they knew about what was going on, but she knew both of them had strong ties to Coulson in the past, not that they knew he was alive again.

"_Has it calmed down on your end?"_ Clint asked, a hint of his concern leaking into the question.

"For the most part," Bobbi said, running a hand through her hair and wincing at the aches in her muscles. "It's bottomed-out for the most part, but at least things are looking up from here on out."

She deeply.

"_Bobs, you sound exhausted,"_ Clint noted with a stern edge to his voice. _"It's still early – get some rest."_

"How would you know what time it is where I am, birdbrain?" she asked.

"_I have my ways,"_ he joked, though the seriousness returned when he spoke again. _"Seriously, little bird. You sound beat. Take a nap or something."_

"You're the second person to tell me that today," she murmured, eyes sliding despite her blinking to keep them open.

"_Then maybe you should follow my advice."_

"Mhmm."

"_I'm hanging up now, Bobbi-"_ he started, before he was cut off by Natasha.

"_Bobbi, I might not know exactly what's eating at you, but I can definitely empathize. If Hunter's out of the picture, find someone else to believe in you. It'll make all the difference."_

She thought of the news articles released shortly before HYDRA's takeover – rumors of the Black Widow and Captain America as fugitives from justice – and of Natasha's defense of SHIELD at Capitol Hill before she disappeared off the map, apparently to live with Clint. Bobbi smiled, realizing just what Natasha was saying.

"Thanks Natasha," she said, fighting another yawn. "I'll be sure to get on that."

Farewells were said, and Bobbi stared at the phone for a couple of long minutes, her eyes unfocused and her eyelids weighing heavy as her arms and legs felt. She yawned again, deeply, and forced herself to get off the bed and turn out the lights, easily making her way back to bed in the dark. She placed the phone on the bedside table and pulled the duvet up over her chest. Relaxing into the bed, it only took her a minute or so to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

**You guys asked for more Natasha, so she showed up! ;) This chapter was a bit darker, mostly because the episode was a bit darker, so there wasn't as much banter between Clint and Bobbi, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. These three all have a similar foundation in my opinion, and I loved writing them together, even if it was kind of difficult for me to get Natasha's voice/words right in my head. Here's hoping she sounds "in character"! There was a bit less phone conversation, too, but the first part of this fic couldn't be taken out no matter how hard I tried. Lol. My brain sometimes...**

**And I threw in the bit with Jemma and Mack in an effort to keep myself from writing a meeting between Bobbi and Jemma when she returns, but I could easily write another. Would any of you be interested? I'm always full of ideas... I'll also be posting a oneshot based on the promo for tonight's episode ("Afterlife") where Skye meets Lincoln, so if you're interested, just pop on over there!**

**Also (slightly shameless plug), if any of you have a tumblr and want to join in my liveblog of tonight's episode, I'm "dancer4813" on tumblr, and at 9/8 central I'll be starting a liveblog of the episode - hope to see you there! **

**Keep giving me ideas for future oneshots, and I'll keep compiling a list to write! **

**Thanks, as always for reading.**

**Until next week,**

**~Dancer**


	5. 2x16 - Afterlife

**Set after 2x16 - "Afterlife"**

* * *

It was after an exhausting day of trying to support both "sides" of SHIELD while also attempting to keep in Gonzales' good books that Bobbi found herself on the roof of the Playground with a beer at nearly two in the morning, staring at the few stars she can see overhead. Her world was relatively stable – it wasn't as broken as when HYDRA had come into the open, nor as bad as a few days prior when Hunter had fled and Gonzales had taken over the Playground – but it wasn't entirely solid either.

It had been a ridiculous assumption, but a small part of Bobbi had believed that when she and Mack came out into the open that things would be back to the way they had been. SHIELD would be back to normal and she'd be back to missions, with Hunter safely out of the picture, and life would continue as it had. Mack had said it – they had known it wasn't going to end in hugs, with understanding from Coulson and his team.

She had known it was a naïve optimism she'd clung on to for far too long, but she had always hoped there would be some sort of reconciliation after the climax, following the falling action. Unfortunately, life didn't work out like a novel, and the climax had come far too soon, the rising action skyrocketing until the turning point of the story, and the falling action was taking _far_ too long to actually fall.

The tension Bobbi had been dealing with for three days had lasted three days too long. Gonzales hadn't been able to get a look in Fury's toolbox, their agents were having absolutely no luck tracking down Skye, Coulson, _or_ Hunter, and May was being as stubborn as ever. Even if she had agreed to join their team, she managed to either directly or indirectly challenge every order Gonzales had issued (not that Bobbi wasn't _sure_ the older agent had her own agenda, just as Bobbi herself had had).

What hurt the most however, was the simple, cold, almost disappointed air that Fitzsimmons had held toward her since the takeover. She had thought herself relatively good friends with both Fitz and Simmons, but she had become the enemy in their eyes. Bobbi had to commend their loyalty to what they believed in, especially Fitz's – enough to leave, even though it meant he and Jemma had a falling out – and admittedly, she had been sad to see him go. Jemma at least had come to an understanding of what they were trying to do, of what their work to rebuild SHIELD could mean for the greater good. It was why she had put so much effort into attempting to unlock the toolbox.

Unfortunately, the biochemist hadn't been able to crack the cube's secrets open. It meant that Gonzales was _far_ less than happy, and that more teams had been deployed to attempt to bring Coulson, Hunter, and their assets in. Whatever the cost.

Bobbi took another deep swig of her beer and pressed the cold side of the bottle to her temple. It wasn't much of a surprise that Hunter had sought out Coulson, whom he had identified strongly with, but the fact that her ex-husband had practically sided with Gonzales' enemy made Bobbi uncomfortable.

She knew Gonzales' MO, and she knew Hunter's. Hunter wasn't one to stand back and watch, but Bobbi wished that for _once _he could have stayed in the shadows. His alliance with Coulson and the powered people the former director seemed to be collecting put him in Gonzales' bad books, and even though the teams out searching had orders to bring Coulson in alive, Bobbi knew that Gonzales wouldn't give a damn if Hunter got caught in the crossfire.

Hunter might have taken back his "Don't die out there" comments from the past, but Bobbi sure as hell hadn't taken back her own. If Hunter got injured or killed because of someone on Gonzales' side, she wasn't sure she would be able to stand it. That was one of the main reasons she'd wanted to join the teams out searching for the renegades – they _were_ all SHIELD, all on the same side, and nobody seemed to understand that. Not even Gonzales.

The fingers of her left hand found the phone in her pocket and pulled it out, spinning it before her eyes. To call or not to call? She'd done her best to avoid getting in touch with Clint since the day the Playground had been overrun. If anyone saw her talking to someone in secret, it would immediately be assumed she was conspiring with Hunter, and she needed to be in Gonzales' good books as much as possible, especially with her verbal opposition to both his degradation of Skye and his devaluing of May as a fighter and an asset.

But she needed to talk to _someone. _Natasha's words from the last call had stuck with her – _"find someone else to believe in you. It'll make all the difference"_ – and even though she had considered telling Mack, Simmons, even _Gonzales_ her worries, it wasn't as if she could find an ally anywhere on any team, or in any version of SHIELD. She was alone in trying to mediate both sides, in attempting to show respect toward both Gonzales' leadership, and in defending Skye as a _person_, a sentient human being. Everyone else seemed to view Skye as either a weapon or a threat, which wasn't surprising due to her show at the cabin in the woods, but that small display didn't mean she was less than human.

Bobbi tipped back the bottle again, and groaned softly when she realized it was empty. She set it next to her and dropped her head in her arms, resting them on her bent knees. It was nearly one in the morning – not late enough that she wouldn't be able to get a decent amount of sleep, but not early enough that someone could wander around and hear her talking.

She ran her fingers through her hair and stood, unlocking the phone and hitting the speed dial as she did. A warm spring breeze rushed over the rooftop as she walked to the edge, looking over the city below her.

It rang twice before she heard his voice on the other end of the line.

_"Hawkeye's Pizza Delivery Service, how can I be of service?"_

"Hey Clint. Can I talk with Natasha?" Bobbi asked without preamble, though a grin was growing on her face.

_ "Wow, really feeling the love, Bobs."_

"Shut up, Big Bird," she joked, feeling a bit more of the tension slide out of her shoulders. "Just put her on, will you?"

_"And if she's not here?"_

He might have been able to pull off the scam for a bit longer, had Natasha's voice not come through the receiver at that very moment.

_"Clint, Is that Bobbi?" _

_ "No, not at all-"_

"Clint," Bobbi reprimanded.

_"She doesn't want to talk to you!"_

_ "Shut up," _Natasha said, and there was a scuffling noise as they apparently fought for the phone. Bobbi listened in amusement. Two assassins, and they could easily be the most childish people she knew.

_"Sorry about that,"_ Natasha said, the commotion quieting. _"You wanted to talk?"_

"You didn't injure him too badly, did you?" Bobbi asked, smirking as she sat on the edge of the roof, her legs swinging freely.

_"Not at all. He might have a threat of blackmail hanging over him now though…"_

"You're probably the best for that, aren't you?" Bobbi said with a chuckle. "Can I know what it is?"

She heard Clint arguing in the background, but it was abruptly cut off and Bobbi could only guess that Natasha had sent him one of her death glares.

_"Let's just say it had to do with karaoke night at Stark's and a Bon Jovi song,"_ Natasha said smugly.

Bobbi laughed, actually laughed, for the first time since the last phone call. It was a good feeling. She thought of Clint doing karaoke, let alone to Bon Jovi, and understood why it would make nice blackmail material.

"Did Stark get it on video?"

_"You bet he did,"_ Natasha said with a laugh. _"Should I send it to you?"_

_ "Hell no!" _Clint shouted distantly, making both Natasha and Bobbi laugh.

"Might be amusing," Bobbi said innocently, leaning back a bit.

_"I'll look into it," _Natasha assured her, ignoring Clint's shouting in the background.

"I'm looking forward to it," Bobbi said, sighing. "But seriously, can we talk?"

_"Oh, you really did want to talk to me. That's a nice change of pace," _Natasha said, covering her surprise quickly, but not quickly enough that Bobbi didn't notice. It was certainly understandable – the first conversation they'd shared was three days earlier.

_"Does she want to talk to me now?" _Clint asked loud enough for Bobbi to hear.

_"No. Go and sharpen your arrows or something," _Natasha said.

_"But why not?"_

_ "Lady things,"_ Natasha said coolly, and Bobbi heard a strange noise from Clint.

_"Ah. Yes. Well, I'll just be upstairs in the…"_

His voice trailed off and Natasha chuckled darkly. _"What I've learned from living with five male Avengers – any mention to our femininity chases them away pretty quick. Pepper and I use that excuse far too often – lucky all our men are blockheads and don't notice it. Anyway, you wanted to talk?"_

Bobbi laughed again, then sighed deeply, running her hand across her face.

"You know DC?" she asked, not wanting to jump straight in.

_"Did something happen? Are you in trouble?"_ Natasha probed, on full alert.

Of course Natasha had gone there first. "This has nothing to do with HYDRA," Bobbi assured her. "Just everything to do with the sort of situation I'm dealing with right now."

_"In what way?"_ Natasha's voice was careful, measured.

"You know the feeling that everyone's out to get you, when everyone's against you, even the people you've sided yourself with?"

_"All too well, as you know. But you know that too- did it happen again? You sure you're not in trouble?"_

Bobbi smiled at the concern in the usually stoic voice. "In a way it did, yeah. I mean, it's not HYDRA, and it's more like after it all went down – when you were the liaison between the US government and what was left of SHIELD. I'm on both sides, trying to referee two sides that absolutely refuse to see eye-to-eye and it doesn't look like anything will ever get resolved. The tension's killing me."

Natasha make a soft noise of assent, and was silent for a moment before responding.

_"Which side of the conflict are you really on?"_ she asked, making Bobbi pause.

She had thought of herself on both sides. On one hand she was devoted to Gonzales and Weaver and the goal they had set out to accomplish, on the other she felt like she was still a member of Coulson's team, and she subconsciously grouped herself with them.

What she had been fighting for had been more or less finished – both SHIELDs were together, were working as one (sort of), and there wasn't much more she could do to integrate them. Coulson's team was so tightly knit, had been handpicked by Coulson himself, and she knew they wouldn't be conforming to Gonzales' standards anytime soon. Not to mention the change Bobbi had seen come over Gonzales since they'd taken the Playground.

When she'd first joined Gonzales and his ideal SHIELD the man had seemed grounded and strongly set in what he was doing. He had seemed impassioned, but wary, which had been perfectly understandable in their situation after HYDRA had risen from the shadows. Now that he had taken over the man seemed to be more unstable, less discerning about how he should go about managing the base and the people on it. Bobbi had to admit she had been growing less fond of the man over the last half week.

"_You need to know that before you can figure out what to do," _Natasha continued, after a pause long enough for Bobbi to think. _"Or at least decide whose opinion you agree with the most. You need something to believe in before you decide to pick a side, and you need to pick a side before you can easily create a bridge in between the two. That make sense?"_

"It does," Bobbi affirmed, not that it would help. She could pick sides for all it was worth, but without anyone able to see her point of view, and no outlet to give her a chance to voice her opinion (she would be shot down whether she went to May _or_ Gonzales, that was for certain), there wasn't any way she could mediate them.

"You know what you said last time, about finding someone to believe in you?" she asked.

"_Is that what I said?" _Natasha joked. _"I was pretty drunk at that point. Yeah though, I remember."_

"What would you recommend if it's certain that no one will be able to see the issue from your side of it?"

"_That does make it more difficult," _Natasha mused. _"Are you sure you're alright, Bobbi? I don't like the sound of your situation here."_

"I'm- I'll be fine," she said, not entirely confidently. Natasha's pause was enough to tell Bobbi she hadn't fooled her in the slightest. "I just need to figure some things out, I suppose."

Natasha wasn't sure what to say. On one hand she trusted Bobbi to do what she knew was right. Clint had told her enough about the younger agent to make her believe that, but it sounded like Bobbi was in trouble, and none of the good sort. Personal conflicts were never fun to figure out.

"I hope you figure it all out," she said finally, and heard another, quieter sigh from the woman on the other end of the line. Probably from the abrupt end to the call. But there wasn't anything else she could tell her, besides be careful, something Natasha knew she didn't need to hear. "And know that Clint is completely willing to jump back into action if you ask him for it."

"_I'll keep that in mind,"_ Bobbi said with a hint of a smile in her tone. _"Until next time, Natasha."_

"Until next time."

She ended the call and threw the phone up absentmindedly, catching it with ease each time as she walked up to the room in the safe house Clint had claimed for his own.

He was laying on the bed, twirling an arrow between two fingers.

Seeing her serious look as she stepped in, the archer sat up quickly. "That wasn't a conversation about ladies things, was it?" he accused, drawing a grin onto Natasha's face.

"Not at all," Natasha said, sitting herself primly on the edge of the bed. "No, it was a bit more heart-to-heart than that."

"Why would Bobbi want a heart-to-heart with you?" he asked, looking genuinely confused.

"She compared her situation to mine after the Triskelion."

"HYDRA?" he asked, coming to attention.

"That's what I asked, and she denied it," Natasha said, handing him the phone without looking. "No, I think it's more personal than that."

"HYDRA was pretty personal," Clint grumbled.

"But Bobbi was choosing between the two sides herself, Clint," Natasha said. "It didn't sound like a good situation."

"Hardly anything's a 'good situation' anymore, Nat."

She rolled her eyes. "It sounded like she was questioning her own choices, and Bobbi's one of the most down to earth people you know."

"You've never met her though," Clint said, frowning.

"That _you_ know, not me."

"Ah. And I suppose that means if _I_ say she's down to earth, that means she is?"

"I tend to trust your judgment," she said with a smirk.

"A rather terrible decision, if you ask me," he shot back.

"And I know you trust her to make the right decision. You hardly questioned her loyalty to SHIELD, Fury entrusted her with a secret mission, and she got out of the wreckage HYDRA left behind alive and well. So why isn't she sure about her decision anymore? What happened?"

"Good question," Clint mused. "It is a bit suspicious, isn't it? And last time - her mentions of Fury and SHIELD, talking about missions and coworkers… It sounds too much like SHIELD."

"I hope she knows what she's getting into."

"Me too," Clint said, accepting Natasha's outstretched hand in his own, thankful for the comforting squeeze she gave him.

* * *

**Well, this chapter was impossible to write. I had little to no inspiration until last night's Age of Ultron premiere where I saw all the cast of AOS and AOU. :) Which helped form this idea here, where you see a lot more Natasha, and Clint and Natasha are a bit more suspicious than they let Bobbi on to. And yes, the karaoke reference was from the MTV awards where Jeremy Renner was asked which song Hawkeye would choose as "his song"/sing for karaoke (he chose "Blaze of Glory" by Bon Jovi, so if you were wondering which song it was...)**

**A few of you asked if they'll meet up in person, or if Clint and Natasha will figure out about Coulson being alive/new SHIELD, and I have to say that I'm not sure. I'm writing these as I go, and as the show progresses, so I'm getting ideas as they come, not as the story continues. **

**That being said, I am completely psyched up for this episode tonight - WE GET TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED IN BAHRAIN! I've been dying inside this whole last week - the trailer and the sneak peeks have been freaking me out! I don't know if I'll be able to emotionally live through this episode...**

**Anyway, this chapter was put up in a hurry. Like, I need to go eat dinner now so I can go to an audition so I can come back and watch the episode (AH!), and I didn't really have a lot of time to edit it. I'm sorry for any typos or weird mistakes, and I hope you didn't get thrown off by all of Bobbi's introspection. It was just sort of how this episode worked, especially since we didn't see much of her at all (BUT FITZSIMMONS AND LINCOLN AND JIAYING! AH!). **

**So yeah, hope you enjoy it! I'll PM replies to reviews when I have a chance to tonight, and I'm going to try liveblogging on my tumblr: dancer4813, assuming I get back from the audition on time.**

**Thank you all so much for reading, and to all the new followers and those who have favorited and left reviews! I love you all!**

**~Dancer**


	6. 2x17 - Melinda

**after 2x17 - "Melinda", leading into 2x18 - "The Frenemy of My Enemy"**

* * *

_"To what do I owe the pleasure?"_ Clint asked as he answered the phone.

"Just wanted to call," Bobbi said honestly. "Things have calmed down around here, but I like this habit I've adopted."

_"Of calling me?"_

"No, of calling Natasha," Bobbi joked, smirking at Clint's answering whine over the phone. "Yes, of course it's you. Natasha's just a bonus."

_"I'll tell her you said that."_

"Only if you want video evidence of Hawkeye singing karaoke to be leaked to the press…"

_"She didn't,"_ he gasped.

"Oh yes she did, Big Bird," Bobbi said smugly, reclining in the chair of the conference room, which was the only semi-private room on the aircraft carrier that had comfy chairs. Things had been pretty slow in the area of hunting for Coulson, Hunter, and Mike Peterson and Gonzales wanted her to stay at the base to make use of her skills, so she had plenty of free time. Of course, Gonzales' reasoning was bullshit, as she was a field agent, not a techie or nearly as good a scientist as anyone in the science division.

She didn't have any definitive proof, but Bobbi was quite sure that Gonzales didn't want to test her loyalties any more than they already had been. It was possible he had gotten wind of her phone conversations, or he could just be biased against her because of her insistence that Skye was a _human being_ with _rights_ instead of some animal that needed to be locked up, but either way he had more or less confined her to the Iliad for an indefinite period of time.

"_Remind me to take away her vodka."_

"That doesn't sound like it would end well for her _or_ for you," Bobbi said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Besides, you have nothing to worry about if you just don't tell her I thought she was a 'bonus'."

"_She probably wouldn't care anyway," _Clint agreed in a faux-casual tone of voice.

"Glad we got that settled," Bobbi said, smiling.

"_You said things have calmed down a bit over on your end?"_ he asked.

"A bit," she replied, shrugging even though he couldn't see it. "We've got a few different goals we're working towards now, but I'm basically on house arrest."

"_What did you do?"_

"Questioned the head honcho about some of his opinions. So he's questioning my loyalties."

"_I assume you have a good reason?"_

He knew her so well. "Standing up for a friend," she said simply. "It was necessary."

"_Proud of you, little bird," _he said with a warmth in his voice that Bobbi couldn't help but smile at.

"Thanks, bro," she teased, her grin widening when he laughed at her nickname for him.

"_Glad I raised you right."_

"We met when I was twenty three and you were twenty six."

"_But you were still just a kid then."_

"_You_ were the kid, if I remember correctly," she said with a laugh. "And you still are, might I add."

"_Can't deny that."_

Bobbi sighed happily, putting her feet up on the table. "Glad we agree."

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Bobbi's thoughts unwillingly went back to her discussion with May the day before, about secrets. Her whole life had been practically built on secrets since she joined SHIELD Academy and started her career as an agent. Her relationships with Clint, with Hunter, with anyone, were all filled with secrets. Her employers had held secrets – Fury of course, and then Coulson and even Gonzales. Lack of information _was _part of their lives, even if secrets weren't being actively kept.

She was staring to question whether full disclosure was the best way to run an organization like SHIELD, and if it was even possible for such an institute to operate as such, but some of Coulson's secrets were too big. It had been a surprise to even discover that SHIELD existed in capacity besides the splinter group formed by Gonzales, and run by a man said to be dead at that, but something as large as Theta Protocol being hidden was almost terrifying. And when she discovered that even Agent May knew nothing about it? Well, it gave them yet another reason to doubt Coulson's ability to lead SHIELD and to bring him in.

"_Bobs? Bobbi? Are you still there?"_

Bobbi started, realizing Clint had been talking to her while she was focused on her memories. She _really_ needed to get back in the field if she was getting distracted so easily.

"Sorry, yeah, I'm here."

"_You alright?"_

"I was thinking," she said truthfully, not wanting to lie to him. It was almost ironic – SHIELD was a secret from the outside world for their own safety, but they also held the new principle of "no secrets" among themselves.

"_About anything interesting?"_

"Mhmm," she mumbled noncommittally. "Not really. I was thinking of the good old days, about SHIELD and missions and actually _doing _something with my life."

"_Understand the feeling," _Clint said, and Bobbi imagined him nodding. _"Going abroad, taking out the bad guys – living in a cabin in the woods where my interaction with the outside world is limited to Natasha, biweekly grocery runs, and the surrounding wildlife kinda pales in comparison."_

Bobbi grinned. "Yeah, and I was thinking of Hunter, how I miss him," she admitted. It might not have been the main focus of her thoughts while she was daydreaming, but she had found herself thinking more and more about him even as she worked. She and Hunter had always had a rocky relationship, but at least the rockiness was constant. Their relationship, however fraught with tension or full of secrets and lies had always been there for her until recently. After he fled the Iliad she hadn't even had a number she could call to talk to him or some other way of contacting him at all, not that he would want her to, the "lying, selfish bastard" she was.

"_You could probably find someone better than _him_," _Clint reasoned, and even though Bobbi knew he was trying to cheer her up, it didn't help much.

"I could…" she said, a sigh escaping her lips. "Of course, I'd have to find another guy first. And dating prospects are pretty low at the time."

"_Is that so?" _Clint asked, pausing for just a moment before continuing. _"I can't imagine they'd be much smaller than mine are right now."_

"You've got Natasha!" Bobbi exclaimed, causing Clint to groan in realization.

"Don't_ tell her I said that."_

"Of course not," she said innocently. "Why _ever_ would I do that?"

"_Shut up."_

"You shut up."

"_No you shut up."_

Bobbi's phone suddenly beeped and she huffed in annoyance as she checked who was calling her. Of all the times for Agent Weaver to need her it was while she was trying to have a conversation with Clint.

"Hang on a moment, I've gotta take this call," she told Clint, putting him on hold in order to answer Weaver's call.

"Agent Weaver," Bobbi greeted.

"_Agent Morse, we need you back in the situation room. There's been a problem."_

"With _what_?"

Had someone seriously screwed something up enough that she needed to come and clean up their mess?

"_The two agents we had following Agent Fitz lost him."_

"And how did they do that?"

"_Somehow our young engineer found a way to contact Phil Coulson. The agents say Fitz disappeared into the Quinjet that went missing when they went to apprehend Coulson and Hunter at The Retreat. It is assumed that Mike Peterson was flying the craft and they escaped before our men could call in support."_

"Don't they have pocket trackers they could have put on the plane?" Bobbi asked.

"_Apparently one of them ran into the cloaked jet on the rooftop of a building they had chased Agent Fitz to, and the other was helping him up when the jet took off," _Agent Weaver responded.

Bobbi sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Half of her wanted to congratulate Fitz for finding some way of contacting Coulson without his tail knowing, and the other half of her wanted to smack the two agents upside the head for being stupid enough to not take the proper precautions and letting their quarry escape.

It would have taken a few seconds to throw a highly-magnetized tracker to the Quinjet before they took off, and it would be simple to find Coulson, persuade him to open the toolbox (or clear things up about Theta Protocol at the least), and potentially enlist his assistance. They really were all on the same team when it came down to it, even if their methods were drastically different, and Bobbi wanted to think the best of Coulson despite the lack of confidence he appeared to display in his team.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked.

"_We have the information on where Coulson was, and where he could have gone. We need you in the situation room to organize search teams going to the possible locations."_

So she still wouldn't be going back into the field. Not that it was a surprise, but it still irked her that Gonzales didn't trust her enough to put her _in_ one of the teams instead of in charge of them. She knew Coulson's style best, but _no_, she wasn't tracking them, she was just coordinating the teams that would.

"Give me two minutes and I'll be there," Bobbi assured Agent Weaver, hanging up and switching back to her phone call with Clint, releasing a frustrated sigh when she had done so.

"_Back again?"_ Clint asked.

"Yeah, but I've got to head out. Some people were being idiots and let an opportunity slip through their fingers. I'm being called in to attempt to clean up the mess in any way I can. Sorry, big bro, but duty calls."

"_I understand, little bird,"_ Clint said with a chuckle. _"Well, we got about… _three_ minutes of conversation. Shall we pick this up again another time?"_

"I think we shall," Bobbi said with a smile. "Talk to you later."

"_See you, Bobs."_

"Bye, Clint."

She ended the phone call and stared at the blank screen for a moment before rubbing her face with her hands and a small moan. Shaking her head, Bobbi stood and made her way out of the conference room to the situation room, where she was not looking forward to admin duty.

* * *

**This chapter's a bit shorter, but here's where it wanted to end. And I kept trying to write a bit more Huntingbird into it, but the only part that worked was the bit I worked into the phone call with Clint. :/ I really want to see more of Bobbi/Hunter interaction, especially as the finale gets closer... *crosses fingers***

**Bobbi's at a really neutral/unsure position right now, in canon and here, after her last conversation with Natasha about choosing sides. I think she can see pros and cons for both Coulson and Gonzales, but Coulson's secret of "Theta Protocol" (which, in my headcanon, is the building of another base or something like that as nowhere in canon does anybody actually say he's had any contact with anyone other than Mike Peterson and everything else from there about a place for gifted individuals is theorized) gives her a reason to doubt him, so she sides with Gonzales for the time being. (Again, an example of her method of having her own agenda instead of someone else's.)**

**Another reason for the short chapter is my explosion of feelings and my broken heart from this past episode (the whole truth about Bahrain - heartbreaking, Jiaying and Skye's interactions all through the episode - heartbreaking and wonderful, all the parallels made between Skye and Katya, and May and Jiaying, that I now see through all the past episodes... yeah, I've mentally and emotionally died a few times due to meta tumblr posts. *sigh* But it gave me so much amazing inspiration for fanfiction and I'm hoping to have at least one oneshot, maybe two, out by this weekend that feature heavily the events of Bahrain, with May as the main character... So look out for those if you're interested!**

**I'm super excited for this episode tonight - anyone else? We've got the return of Ward and Agent 33, and we get a bit more Hunter and Coulson and Fitz action - the bro team. ;) **

**Thank you so much to everyone who's read, reviewed, followed and favorited - over 1500 views and over 20 reviews, follows, and favorites - I love you all! :D**

**So glad you took the time to read this chapter as well!**

**Until next week (or later this week...),**

**~Dancer**


	7. 2x18 - The Frenemy of My Enemy

**Takes place during 2x17 "The Frenemy of My Enemy", and vaguely references 2x18 and Age of Ultron. (No spoilers though, I promise!)**

* * *

Bobbi sighed as she walked down the hall in the Playground. The meeting she and May had had with Gonzales and Weaver had _not_ gone well, not in the slightest. She knew when May told her the toolbox was a fake, Simmons confirming it, that their "superiors" (even though they were meant to be on the same level) were not going to be happy, but she hadn't expected their backlash. The tail they put on Fitz had definitely lost him to Coulson, Peterson, and Hunter, but they had assumed he was without any tech that could cause a problem.

Of course, they were wrong. Fitz had taken the toolbox, and even though Simmons had known and been covering for him, the girl's inability to lie, at least about something so important, had been the downfall of that particular plan. If only the men following him had been competent agents and managed to take him in, they could have gotten the cube back and it wouldn't have been a problem. Gonzales and Weaver wouldn't be practically breathing fire that she and May had to take the brunt of, and they'd finally be able to figure out what Coulson's goal was – with Theta Protocol, with SHIELD…

Shaking her head, Bobbi pushed the thoughts out of her mind. She rolled her pleasantly achy shoulders that were starting to get sore from her spar with Mack (god, it was great to _do_ something again), and paused as she heard a voice that drifted into the hallway from the lab.

"You do realize that it was _my _plan to switch the box, not Fitz's?"

Simmons. Of course she'd gone behind their backs. She hadn't expected Fitz had done it all on his lonesome, and she'd heard plenty of stories about FitzSimmons' unmatchable talent as a team, before HYDRA, but she'd never seen them work together in that way. Until Fitz had escaped at least, as it seemed. Bobbi peeked in the window. Simmons and _May_. And neither of them looked happy.

May said something incomprehensible, and Simmons continued, "I mean, Fitz carried the plan out to _perfection_, but I handed him the schematics."

So Simmons had been at the root of the plan. Bobbi had thought that all the scanning the cube had been to discover how to open it, which hadn't been wrong she supposed, but it also seemed to have given them a way to create an exceptional replica in a small period of time.

"I don't care whose plan it was," May said quietly, though loud enough for Bobbi to hear, even as she pulled away from the window when Simmons stood up suddenly.

She wouldn't bring the information to Gonzales – there was no use locking Simmons up like a prisoner, especially when it was all said and done with and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Unfortunately, May and Simmons didn't know that, and would be suspicious.

"You threw Fitz to the wolves!" Simmons yelled.

"To protect _you_!" May countered, apparently cutting off whatever Simmons was going to say. "They raided the base for that box. You're lucky you're not in a _cell_ right now."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Simmons countered, with a small intake of breath. "You're on their side!"

Bobbi almost scoffed. If only Simmons knew just how the "sides" had changed in the last forty-eight hours. It wasn't about _whose_ SHIELD you allied with, but more about whether or not Coulson could be trusted. He might not be the enemy, but he was an unknown variable. And if they were fighting HYDRA, as they should've been doing all along instead of having a "family feud", they needed to know everyone's motives, pure and simple.

"It's not about sides, it's about the _truth_," May said, letting some exasperation leak through her voice, and echoing Bobbi's own feelings on the subject. "Coulson left us with a mountain of lies and the only way to _understand_ his reasoning was inside that box."

"Honestly, I don't care what's in it," Simmons said, a much more even tone in her voice. "All I know is that Coulson was trying to protect Skye."

"That might be so," May said with a soft sigh. "Get back to work, Agent Simmons. Inform me of any progress you make."

"Yes, Agent May."

Footsteps came toward the door and Bobbi slunk back to hide behind a column that stuck out of the wall, into the shadows so May didn't see her. The woman breezed past, head down and more preoccupied in her thoughts than Bobbi had ever seen her. Once she had passed and turned the corner at the end of the hall Bobbi looked into the room and only saw Simmons, who was staring blankly at her computer screen, fingers motionless on the keyboard. Bobbi considered offering support to the younger scientist, but it was pretty obvious that was not going to be taken well. Simmons still held a grudge against Bobbi and Mack for them being undercover for so long, and Bobbi wasn't stupid enough to think she would be forgiving them at any point in the near future.

Bobbi kept walking, not sure of where she was going.

* * *

May had called them together for a meeting – Mack, Simmons, and Bobbi – to discuss their next plan of action. Simmons hadn't had any more luck breaking through the coded Deathlok technology, and they had no leads on where Coulson could be.

"I say we sit tight and bide our time," Bobbi said, after a few moments of silence. "Coulson's not one to linger in the shadows and hide – he'll be out there doing something sooner or later."

"The only problem is-"

May's comment was cut off by the phone on her desk ringing, and the four in the room shared curious looks. If it was Gonzales he would have video-messaged them through the Playground's systems, and the same with Weaver. Could it really be Coulson calling in?

May answered the call, putting it on speaker so they could all hear. "Hello," she said evenly.

_"May, it's Skye. I need to talk to Coulson."_

Bobbi's eyes widened. She certainly hadn't been expecting the younger agent to be the one on the phone. She had fallen off the map since being taken away by the other Gifted, and Gonzales hadn't been too concerned about tracking her down. And yet, Bobbi was still partially glad Gonzales _wasn't_ looking for her. Bobbi recalled his feelings against powered people and Skye in particular, as he'd expressed. No, they didn't need to deal with Gonzales.

"Skye, where are you? Are you alright?" May asked, and Bobbi could sense the conflicting emotions in the usually stoic agent.

_"Yeah, but I don't have much time. Where's Coulson?"_

Bobbi felt a rush of cold run through her veins as she realized Skye didn't know about Mack and Gonzales' SHIELD. All Skye knew was that Bobbi and some other agents had come to take her away using force. She didn't know that Coulson had fled, nor anything involving Hunter or Fitz, or the controversy about Theta Protocol. Bobbi wondered what Skye's feelings were toward her. Had Skye realized Bobbi was trying to protect her, at least to an extent, before Calderon got violent?

"He's… out. Looking for you," May lied, only hesitating slightly. The older agent nodded to Simmons, who picked up a tablet and began tracking the call. "Where have you been"

_"I'm with Cal, but I won't be for long,"_ Skye said, sounding rushed. _"And when I leave him he's gonna be pissed. Okay? Dangerous. SHIELD needs to come get him and make sure he doesn't hurt anyone."_

_Was that Cal as in her insane, psycho, father Cal?_ Bobbi wondered. _What was Skye doing with him?_

"Wai- Skye, slow down," May said, trying to get the younger agent to stay on the phone long enough for Simmons to track the signal.

_"Okay, there's no time to explain,"_ Skye interrupted. Bobbi shared a look with Mack at that. The way she was talking – it sounded like someone was after her, or at the very least that she wasn't allowed to contact them. "_Please, it's just too complicated, just- _don't_ hurt him."_

Bobbi remembered the last time Skye had confronted Cal, on the field in Wisconsin. She hadn't seemed too upset about him getting hurt then. What had changed in three days' time?

"Skye, where are you?" May asked, almost shouting into the speaker phone. "Skye!"

_"I got neapolitan and vanilla. Which would you like?"_

_ "Uh, you pick."_

May looked up at Simmons, who nodded, checking the tablet. "She left the line open for us. We'll have the location in a minute," the scientist said.

"She doesn't sound like a hostage," Mack remarked.

Bobbi nodded, eyes narrowing. "More like she's playing along."

She caught May's eye and quickly volunteered to do what she knew the senior agent was planning. "Mack and I can take a team, go get them."

It would be a chance to go out in the field, to hopefully show Gonzales _and_ May she could be trusted. Bobbi was pretty sure the woman understood Bobbi's own reasoning, but Bobbi _had_ come in and infiltrated them. The Mockingbird only wanted a chance to prove herself. She was more useful as a field agent anyway. Which meant she was grateful and relieved to hear May's affirmation.

"Do it."

* * *

Milwaukee. Well, Cal certainly had a thing for Wisconsin She and Mack walked through the building, the other agents sweeping the lower levels, though there were obvious signs of a fight all over the building. Bobbi could only be grateful she hadn't seen any familiar bodies lying around. She'd had enough of that when HYDRA had come out into the open. Guns drawn, the two of them were scoping out the halls, but there didn't seem to be anybody around.

If only they had gotten there sooner, but once they had tracked Skye's call, gathered a team, and flown to Wisconsin they had to ask the locals for disturbances, trying to pinpoint where Skye and Cal had gone. The police had set up a perimeter at the front of the building to keep the public out, but Bobbi, Mack, and two other field agents had snuck in a back window and had managed to find… absolutely nothing, apart from plenty of bullets on the ground and a few bodies and blood stains littering the floors.

Bobbi examined some of the bullets, rolling the familiar shapes around between her fingers. "Standard HYDRA issue," she informed Mack, trying to keep her voice even. She did _not_ want to think about how she knew that. "I'd say we missed them by less than an hour."

"Hell of a fight though," Mack commented, stowing his gun and glancing down the hallway on both sides of them. "Looks like everyone cleared out."

"Not everyone," said a very familiar voice from down a side corridor. Bobbi and Mack exchanged glances, and they drew their guns as they approached a solitary room at the end of the hall. With Coulson's motives still unclear, he could be setting a trap for all they knew.

But when they entered the room, all they found was a dusty office, with Coulson sitting in the chair, playing with a hula doll.

"I doubled back after HYDRA took off," he said idly. "Their clean-up crew really sucks, doesn't it?"

If it hadn't looked like a practical war zone in the building, Bobbi would have laughed. "What the hell happened here, Coulson?" she asked, gesturing around them. How could Coulson be so calm when it seemed like he had been part of the conflict. They knew Skye and Cal had been there, but HYDRA had somehow gotten on their tail, and then Coulson? Something wasn't adding up.

"I'll tell you all about it back at the base," he assured them, setting the hula girl back on the desk and standing up, raising his hands in surrender. "Take me to your leader," the man said with a smile on his face, his hands raised in surrender.

If Bobbi hadn't been so concerned about what his surrender meant after he'd run and hidden Fury's toolbox from them, she would have rolled her eyes.

* * *

They'd had to wait around for another hour for Gonzales to bring the Bus, since he hadn't wanted to take any chances with Coulson, and then they had gone back on their way to Playground. Most of their team had found space to relax in the kitchen and lounge area, but Bobbi had commandeered the lab for herself, locking the doors so no one else could get in. Clint had called her during the hour they'd sat around waiting, and she hadn't been able to answer. Bobbi only hoped he wasn't in trouble.

He picked up on the second ring.

"_Bobbi, are you alright?" _Clint asked immediately.

"That's what I called to ask _you_," Bobbi said. "You're never the one to call me. Are you alright? Did something happen?"

"_You're the one who wouldn't pick up her phone,"_ Clint commented dryly.

"I was in the middle of something!"

_"_You're_ still the one who didn't answer," _was his only response. _"I just wanted to give you an update."_

"What sort of update?" Bobbi asked, raising an eyebrow.

_"A life update, little bird,"_ Clint said with a chuckle. _"Stark's called Nat and I in for a mission. Apparently Rogers is coming in too."_

"Mission?" Bobbi asked, not liking the familiar term. If SHIELD was currently having a minor civil war, where were they getting the mission from? _What_ was the mission that needed all of the Avengers?

_"You know Maria Hill's working for the big man, right?"_

"Yeah. She went to him because he had money on his side and was a familiar face. With Fury dead she had to go somewhere."

There was a small, but noticeable pause on Clint's end of the line before he continued. _"So, anyway, Hill apparently got word of some HYDRA bases in Western Europe and Nat scoped them out. She got made contact with some ground units and the bases are legitimate. Stark called us all up, and we're assembling tomorrow in New York."_

Oh. That was almost worse than what she had imagined. She had _not _expected he would be going after HYDRA bases. Bobbi supposed it was good that _someone_ was going after HYDRA, but that didn't mean she wanted her big brother going out there, regardless of how good a fighter he was, or who he was with. She could remember the corpses of her friends, the way they looked after being more or less massacred by HYDRA coming out into the open.

_"Bobbi, you still there?"_

She jumped at his voice and wiped away the moisture that had appeared in her eyes. Nothing had happened yet. He was alive and well and talking to her.

"I'm here. I'm fine," she assured him quickly, though she cursed the waver in her voice.

_"Are you alright, Bobs?" _Clint asked, having heard the tremor. _"Is something wrong? What were you busy with earlier? Do you need help? I can make a detour to wherever-"_

"I'm fine, Clint," Bobbi stated, an edge forming in her voice as she leaned back on the holotable, dragging her thoughts back together. "It's just been a rough day."

There was a sigh and a silence that had and strong sense of disapproval about it hung in the air between them. It was like they were both trying to be the older sibling, even though Clint was the elder by a few years.

_"You sure?"_ he asked, and she felt tears burn her eyes again at the amount of concern in his voice. Damn, she really needed to hit something.

"I'm fine," she repeated, her voice steady and her tone sure. "You're the one who's going into battle with HYDRA."

_"Like you haven't done it before."_

"There were a lot more of us." And she, Mack, and Izzy hadn't been up against whole bases of HYDRA soldiers, but infiltrators who had pretended to be SHIELD, who were fine with the whole capture-not-kill business. Bobbi had a feeling any base the Avengers attacked wouldn't have the same mentality

_"But we're 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes' and all that jazz. Trust me, we've got HYDRA covered."_

"Good to know," Bobbi said dryly. She bit her lip, hesitating. "Don't die out there, alright?"

Clint knew what the phrase meant to her and he was silent for a good few seconds before he replied. _"I'm not planning on doing that anytime soon, don't you worry, little bird. And don't forget, Natasha's coming with me – she'll keep me from getting mortally wounded."_

"I'm sure she'll try," Bobbi said, standing up and taking a deep breath. "But just so you know, if you come back in a body bag I'm going to find a time machine and go back in time so I can kill you myself."

_"You'd be in line behind Nat,"_ Clint joked.

* * *

_"I'm sure I would be," _Bobbi answered, though there was a distinct lack of cheer in her words. He didn't blame her, he would feel the same if he knew that she was going on a potentially lethal mission. According to Tony, Hill had been researching potential HYDRA bases with the help of an unknown asset, and that's how they'd gotten the information. According to Natasha and her own prying/hacking work however, the situation was a bit more complicated than that. And if she was right… He's have some words for both of the men involved.

"As long as it's a quick and painless death, I guess I wouldn't mind too much."

_"Don't bet on it, Big Bird. If I'm going to come back and kill you, it's going to be brutal and you're going to feel every damn second of it."_

"Looking forward to that," Clint murmured, glancing out the window of the farmhouse at the clouds drifting lazily past in the blue sky. Nat would be coming by to pick him up in a couple of hours, when the sun started to set, but he'd already been methodically folding and unfolding his bow, checking the tension of the string and each of his arrows individually for a couple of hours.

_"You'd better not,"_ Bobbi retorted.

"You want to call Nat, get her in on the plan?" he asked, leaning back on the couch in the living room. "You could brainstorm creative ways of killing me together."

_"I might just do that,"_ Bobbi said. Clint was glad to hear a smile in her voice, and considered that a success. He grinned to himself and stretched his feet out on the coffee table. He could tell Bobbi was hiding something from him, and knowing Bobbi it was probably something important, but he didn't want to push her. He knew she would let him in when it got too much – he'd had experience with that in the past – but he almost wished it would take a shorter amount of time for her to crack. He was worried.

"Have you got any plans this week? Anything exciting happening?"

_"Sounds like you don't want to talk about your impending doom."_

"I thought we established I was gonna try not to die!"

_"'Try' being the operative word,"_ Bobbi shot back. _"Knowing you, it's not going to matter though. You're always accident-prone. Remember Chimolo?"_

"You mean Mozambique?" Clint asked, astounded. "We agreed never to speak of that again!"

_"Really? I don't remember that agreement," _Bobbi said, chuckling a little. _"But I distinctly remember you tripping on a rooftop and falling head over heels into-"_

"Bobbi-"

_"-a stall of bananas, after which you tried to talk your way out of it, but _I_ was the only one on the mission who knew Swahili besides our undercover man."_

"I had to pay for all of those bananas! It was not funny!" Clint protested, though he was also smiling.

_"I guess it wasn't funny," _Bobbi admitted. "At least, n_ot as funny as that time you slipped on a wet spot in the hall at HQ and ended up flat on your back in front of the new agents."_

"Bobs, you're treading in dangerous waters…"

_"Or what about that time in Cambodia when you were drunk and though having-_

"That's enough, Bobbi," Clint groaned, even as his lips drew upward into a smile. "Did you get that one from Nat?"

_"Sure did. I've got plenty of blackmail material on you, Big Bird."_

"Wish I had as much on you."

_"I'm the smart one in the family. I wouldn't let you _see_ the potential blackmail material, let alone actually get your hands on it."_

"And I'm sure you'd have Nat's help too."

_"We girls have got to stick together."_

Clint laughed at that. "I'll keep my eyes open."

_"Probably your best bet," _Bobbi agreed. _"Hang on-"_

She sounded distracted and Clint could hear the murmur of voices from wherever Bobbi was.

_"He's let them do what?"_ he heard her ask, sounding both disgruntled and angry. _"Why?"_

It didn't seem like she enjoyed the answer. There was a moment of silence before there was the soft rustle of the phone ending up next to her ear and she spoke again.

_"Listen, big bro, I'm gonna have to call you back," _she said. _"Will you be available in Europe?"_

"If I answer, I'm available," he said, already making a mental note to leave his phone on when he left for the world-saving-thing. Usually he would have left it in the farmhouse, since they would be on coms anyway, but Bobbi's psychological well-being was important enough to him to bring it with. And, if Bobbi got into trouble with _whatever she was doing that she wouldn't tell him yet, _he'd already be with the other Avengers, in a more-than-ready position to help.

_"And if you don't answer?"_

"Leave a message at the tone. And I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

_"Clint!" _

He laughed at her exasperation. "No, seriously. Leave a message, Bobs. I'll get back to you when I can, don't worry."

"_I'm going to anyway."_

"Don't I know it," Clint smiled affectionately. "Talk to you later, little bird."

"_Talk to you later, Clint."_

He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment before throwing it up in the air, catching it as it came down. His limbs felt shaky with restless energy, but he started making some coffee anyway, knowing he'd be in for a long night, and knowing that there was no way he'd calm down enough to take a nap.

* * *

**So sorry about this being late! I really did mean to have this out on Thursday, but I made the "mistake" of going to see an Avengers double feature (the first and second, basically back-to-back), which left me with a large amount of feels and no way to cope. If you've seen the movie, you know what I mean. I also had an insanely busy day yesterday and I was going to publish this earlier this morning, but we had to take our dog to the vet. He ruptured his ACL, which is usually treated with surgery, so we'll see where that goes. :(**

**Anyway, this story is officially AU from the greater MCU in a couple of ways now that Age of Ultron has come out (again, if you saw the movie you know what I'm talking about). But there's no real spoilers here and there won't be for at least one more chapter. (Of course, I've got some really great ideas for the next **_**few**_** chapters now that AOU has come out… :3 That look Clint had at that one moment… And that other thing… Yeah, I'm excited. **

**I've also got part of the next chapter already written already, and I'm planning on it leading up to AOU, though I'm going to have to see where the show picks up from the movie in "Scars" this coming Tuesday in order to figure out what's happening with this story. **

**You'll notice, if you've seen "The Dirty Half-Dozen", that I'm warping AOS canon in a minor way, but I promise, it's still going to work out the same, with what Coulson said at the end of the episode. **

**Did you catch the little reference to Coulson, though? It **_**was**_** pretty subtle…**

**Thanks to **_**La Monde**_** and **_**Ealasaid Una**_** for wishing me luck on my exams – they went really well, and I'm officially home for the summer (unpacking's a whole **_**other**_** adventure)! Also, thanks to **_**mfmxxx, RegalSwanQueenMarvel, Juliette (guest), Sanctuaria, and SwifteForeverAndAlways **_**for leaving reviews on chapter 6. :) You guys, all of you (and all you other readers, of course) rock. **

**Love you all, thanks for reading, and I'll see you on Tuesday!**

**~Dancer**


	8. 2x19 - The Dirty Half Dozen

**If you missed the update on Saturday, go back a chapter so you don't miss anything! **

**Set during 2x19 – "The Dirty Half Dozen", still no spoilers for Age of Ultron**

* * *

Bobbi watched from afar as first Hunter and Fitz disembarked from the Bus, then Grand Ward and Agent Palamas, better known as Agent 33. She would have been there to meet their visitors – she had known Kara before it all went down, had even done a mission or two with the woman after Clint and Natasha had partnered up for good.

But Bobbi didn't want to pressure Hunter. Even if it had been their "normal" sort of fight, it was practically impossible he'd even _thought_ about forgiving her yet. Factor in the whole debacle between Coulson and Gonzales, and her apparent betrayal, and that only added to his "sulking period" as she put it. In the past it had been a few weeks before he'd be texting her again on the secure line they shared, but Bobbi was betting on a few months before he'd even grant her a passing "hello" in the hall.

She sighed, wishing things could have been different. If only she hadn't waited until it was too late, if only she'd let Hunter in on the secret she and Mack shared at the very beginning, right when he joined SHIELD, they might have been able to work it out. Unfortunately, there was no going back now. She watched him and Fitz talk together as they walked through the door leading to the labs. They seemed to already be closer than they had been before Gonzales had tried to take over the base. Well, Bobbi knew better that most how being fugitives made people grow closer together.

"Agent Morse, we need you in the main office," Gonzales called down the hallway.

"Coming," she replied, straightening up and following him to Coulson's old office. May, Coulson, and Ward were already there, sending stony glares at each other until Gonzales entered and pulled up a connection with Agent Weaver, who was still on the Iliad, and Agent Oliver, who was at another base of Gonzales'.

"What news have you got for us, Agent Coulson?" Weaver asked. "Assuming that's why you've returned."

"Mike Peterson went undercover earlier today with HYDRA, but was captured, along with another Gifted who possessed some form of electrokinesis. Doctor List, one of the two remaining heads of HYDRA, took custody of them both, but through our link with the Deathlok technology we managed to track them to a suspected HYDRA base in the Arctic Circle."

"And you want to perform a reconnaissance mission?" Weaver clarified.

"That's the plan," Coulson said, nodding. "And hopefully destroy the HYDRA base in the process."

Bobbi leaned back on the wall of frosted windows near the door to the office. Neither Ward nor Gonzales seemed surprised by the information Coulson had divulged, meaning they both already knew the plan. It must have been what Gonzales was speaking to Coulson about on the flight back to the Playground. May, on the other hand, looked distinctly uncomfortable at the situation, though Bobbi couldn't tell if it was because Ward was in the room, or because she disapproved of the mission.

"Did Mr. Peterson get any other helpful information through the eye feed?" Agent Oliver asked, folding his arms across his chest. "It seems foolish to go in for a rescue simply because they were taken. We wouldn't want to spread our resources thin."

_Doing what?_ Bobbi wanted to scoff. It wasn't as if they were doing much more than sitting at the base currently. They _hadn't _been doing anything – going after HYDRA was the main objective, and here there was a chance to do it. Bobbi had known the other members of the board were against Coulson, but to completely toss his ideas, flawed as they might be? The prejudice in the air was strong.

Coulson pulled up a few different video segments that appeared on the screen in front of them. They saw an x-ray view of a couple dozen body bags as seen through a brick wall, then a normally-colored scene of what looked like lab technicians at work, and finally a view from what appeared to be an operating table where the camera was jostled about before glitching infrared and then cutting out entirely.

"What happened?" Gonzales asked.

"It appears HYDRA removed his eye," Coulson stated plainly.

"Then we've got a problem," Bobbi pointed out, moving from her place by the edge of the office. "Without Deathlok's feed we don't have eyes on the ground."

Ward spoke up for the first time, mentioning Bakshi. Bobbi was skeptical – Bakshi was one of the leaders of HYDRA, and Ward had been one of their foot soldiers, buried deep in SHIELD before it fell. The former specialist might've claimed he wasn't a HYDRA agent, but honestly – there was no defecting from HYDRA.

But Coulson seemed to trust the intel Bakshi was giving them, so Bobbi went with it. She did feel the need to point out the location of the base however – the Arctic Circle was hardly an urban location. Any SHIELD plane flying in would be spotted, cloaking tech or not. They'd be shot out of the sky straight away.

"That's why it's critical I take in a small team," Coulson said with a nod.

"And just to be clear, Agent Coulson," Weaver spoke from her video link, "what exactly is your objective here?"

"We rescue the enhanced prisoners, then take out the missile defense system so that SHIELD jets can fly in safely and bomb the facility."

Bobbi couldn't fault his reasoning. Any small team would be able to infiltrate such an obscure base easier than an assault team. And along with rescuing the two men from _experimentation,_ or whatever List had been doing to them (Bobbi thought back to her time under Whitehall and his own experiments and nearly shuddered), there was the added bonus of being able to destroy a HYDRA base. Count her in.

"You really believe a small team can do this?" she asked.

"My team can," Coulson affirmed, surety audible in his voice.

"Then I suppose we should put this matter to a vote," Gonzales said. "Agent Morse?"

"I'm in," she said without hesitation. This was the reason she had become an agent – to help people, to give them the chance at a better life.

Weaver and Oliver both voted against Coulson's proposal, and for a moment Bobbi wanted to yell at them, convince them to support the mission. Did they not see how _necessary_ it was? Before HYDRA had resurfaced, agents were put in danger every day, and Coulson's plan (as crazy as it sounded) had a high chance of success compared with some of the missions Bobbi herself had been on over the course of her career.

But then _Gonzales_ gave an up vote, and Bobbi narrowed her eyes toward where he was leaning on the desk. Back when the "New SHIELD" had first been founded, Gonzales had been the one to ostracize Coulson in the first place, citing the death and alien substance, GH-325, as reasons to not trust the "wannabe Director". All of Gonzales' decisions up to this point had been attempts to usurp Coulson's authority. What the hell had happened on their way back from Wisconsin to make Gonzales (admittedly one of the most stubborn people Bobbi had met) change his mind?

But the vote came down to May, with two for and two against, and all she said was, "I'd like a word in private with Agent Coulson first."

Bobbi looked between the two of them, but they were locked in a staring contest, Coulson appearing confused and maybe a little betrayed, and May giving him a strong, hard glare. Bobbi knew just how much Coulson was keeping from his former right hand, and wasn't surprised when, after she, Ward, and Gonzales had vacated the office, she could hear indistinct raised voices coming from the office.

In the end May agreed to go ahead with the plan, even though she still looked warily at Coulson.

They finalized plans for the mission, but as soon as Bobbi stepped forward, Gonzales spoke up.

"Agent Morse, I want you to stay back at the Playground."

Bobbi looked up, and she could feel three pairs of eyes from the others in the room on her back. She took a deep, slow breath to calm the indignant surge of anger that had flared in her gut. She was easily the most competent on base in terms of hand-to-hand combat, and the team would need every advantage if they were going to succeed. So why hold her back, especially when he'd voted to go ahead with the initiative?

He held her gaze, as if daring her to challenge him, and she cursed silently, knowing he had her cornered. She still felt loyalty to him for leading them through the first few months after SHIELD fell, and he knew that.

Hiding her reluctance, Bobbi nodded curtly, then removed herself from the circle of conversation, only listening idly to the rest of the plan, which was little more than delegating Quinjet piloting to a few specific people who were cleared for aerial combat strikes.

Bobbi wanted nothing more than to go against Gonzales – to ignore his orders and go on the mission regardless of what he thought. But she would play submissive, as Natasha had taught her, and lay low until she knew what the whole picture looked like. Unfortunately, Bobbi didn't enjoy lying low, and she'd been staying under Gonzales' radar for far too long already.

The man preached against secrets and advocated for a SHIELD that was open and not compartmentalized, and yet that was _exactly_ what he was doing. Gonzales never revealed his whole plan until it was necessary and he consistently held her back for no reason at all, simply to spite Coulson and _his _plans. It was almost worse than Fury. Fury might've kept secrets, but at least everybody knew he was keeping them; in the old SHIELD it was _expected_ for secrets to be kept. In Gonzales' idealized version of SHIELD there was an illusion of sincerity, but Gonzales' reticence ruined any potential that veneer held.

"If you didn't want me to go, then why did you vote to allow it?" she asked the man after Coulson, May, and Ward had gone to prep for the mission.

"Because Coulson's only using his own people," he said gruffly. "Figured it was worth the risk."

She held back an angry scoff. They were all SHIELD – it didn't matter _whose_ people they were. And he held her back, which meant Gonzales felt that any of _his _people were more valuable, or simply less expendable, than those who had been with Coulson from the beginning. They were all on the same side, for heaven's sake. To view Fitz or Simmons, May or even Coulson himself, as expendable was ridiculous. SHIELD needed all the help they could get.

"Those are _SHIELD_ _agents_ going on that mission, Robert," she tried to remind him. He stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked her fully in the face.

"I'm aware of that, Agent Morse," Gonzales said coldly. "We're fighting a war with an enemy that is without honor. Sometimes we make sacrifices for the greater good."

Then he left, turning the corner and leaving Bobbi behind. She frowned after him and felt a burn spark behind her eyelids.

He was deluded, _completely_ insane. Was that all he viewed them as? Sacrifices?

Bobbi had known Gonzales' feelings toward Skye and the other Gifteds - he thought them less than human, thought they were little more than animals. That opinion had been made obvious. But to think of the rest of them as practically worthless? Bobbi wanted to break down.

She was suddenly very glad that Hunter had been injured badly enough to keep him from going out in the field again. Clint was already going after some other HYDRA bases, and Bobbi didn't think she'd be able to handle it if Hunter went on what Gonzales seemed to consider a suicide mission. Not that she didn't care about Phil, May, Fitz, and Jemma, but Bobbi had a history with Lance that wasn't possible to be replaced. A relationship made up of years together and apart. She wondered when he would seek her out so she could apologize…

If only she had some way to _help_, to ensure that everyone else on the mission was safe, Bobbi would have taken the chance in an instant.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket and, surprised, Bobbi pulled it out. It was Clint, but calling only hours after their last conversation? She answered the phone hesitantly.

"Hello?"

* * *

"Hey, little bird," Clint said, leaning back on the couch and putting his feet up on the coffee table in the apartment Stark was letting him use for the night. He ignored Nat's scathing look at his boots on the sparkling glass and continued talking. "Just wanted to let you know I've made it to New York and that I'm safe and sound."

"_You never call to say you 'made it alright'," _Bobbi said, sounding almost scathing. _"What's the real reason?"_

"I can't just want a chat with my little sis?"

"_Not when you talked to her less than five hours ago,"_ she stated dryly, making Clint laugh.

"You got me. Checking in was only part of the reason I called. _Natasha_ actually wanted to chat," Clint admitted, catching Natasha's eye and looking pointedly at the seat next to him. She just rolled her eyes and shook her head, looking unamused as she stood next to him, her arms crossed over her chest and her hip cocked to one side.

"_Tasha wants to talk? What about?"_ Clint smiled at Bobbi's confusion. He didn't want to be too smug about his "girlfriend" and his little sister getting along, but Natasha had practically adopted Bobbi as her own younger sibling, which made him feel all warm and fuzzy, even if he would deny it to anyone who had the nerve to ask.

"Why don't you let her tell you herself?" he asked, handing the phone over to Nat, who accepted it with a gracious nod.

* * *

"You wanted to talk?" Bobbi asked.

"_I did," _Natasha confirmed. _"Clint! Go and bother Stark or something!"_

There was some grumbling heard on the line, and Bobbi smirked at the look Clint would almost certainly have on his face – a cross between childish whining and amusement. Then Natasha said something in Russian and there was silence before Bobbi heard the shutting of the door.

"You threatened him?" she asked, chuckling as she headed toward her bunk. Neither Gonzales nor Weaver would be around looking for reasons to condemn her or anyone else, but that didn't mean the upcoming conversation was one she would want to have in public.

"_The only way to get him off his ass," _Natasha lamented, though mirth was leaking through her voice. _"And the shocked look he gets is rather amusing, I must say."_

Bobbi laughed and ducked into her room, flipped on the light, and sat on the bed. "So what did you want to talk about?" Bobbi prompted.

"_About Coulson,"_ Natasha said without preamble.

Bobbi's eyes widened. "Phil Coulson?" she asked, "Wasn't he killed in the Battle of New York?"

She was almost surprised by the steadiness of her voice.

"_Cut the act,"_ Natasha snipped. _"I've got more important things to argue who's supposed to be dead or not. No one seems to ever stay dead anymore anyway. I've given up trying to reason it out."_

Bobbi wasn't sure how to respond to that. "So you know about Coulson?"

"_Of course I do," _Natasha said, sounding exasperated. _"It's ridiculous that he thought he'd be able to hide. He was my handler and he should known better – unless that stab wound in his heart also affected his mind. No, I've known about him for a while."_

"Good to know."

"_I also know that a certain blonde '_birdy_' has been working with him for a few months," _Natasha said.

Bobbi's heart skipped a beat, and she struggled to keep her breathing even. Natasha had helped SHIELD fall, along with a little help from Steve Rogers – if anyone had a reason to be frustrated about SHIELD's continued existence, she did.

"Does Clint know?" she had to ask, biting her lip. It hadn't been obvious in his tone of voice, and Bobbi liked to think she knew him pretty well, but if he learned she'd been keeping secrets from him, especially a secret so large… She couldn't help but worry it would be like Hunter all over again.

"_I haven't told him you're still working for SHIELD, no," _Natasha said, and Bobbi sighed in relief. _"I imagine, if he found out, it would not be a pleasant discussion."_

"Probably not," Bobbi admitted. "He doesn't trust SHIELD as much as he did."

"_And for good reason,"_ Natasha reminded her. _"But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. You've obviously heard from Clint that we're being called together to take out some HYDRA bases."_

"That's what he told me."

"_Well, I took an in-depth look into Maria Hill's sources-"_

"You hacked her?"

"_Hack is such a strong word,"_ Natasha said with a laugh. _"But yes. And I found out who her intel was coming from."_

"Coulson?"

"_And she gets it in one. Apparently Coulson's been traveling overseas, looking for HYDRA bases and doing some other undercover work. I think he's calling it 'Theta Protocol'?"_

Bobbi felt a twinge of unease, conditioned from hearing the title spoken in a far less easy tone. "That's what he's calling it, yes."

"_What I really called to tell you, Bobbi, is that Coulson's on the right track as far as I know," _Natasha said simply. _"I know there's been some… _tension_ in and amongst SHIELD members-"_

"That's an understatement," Bobbi sighed.

"_Regardless, I just wanted to give you a head's up," _Natasha said. _"I know how it feels to not know all the secrets, but I also know that Coulson's a good man, and that his plan seems pretty solid from what I've dug up. I'm not going to tell you everything – Coulson's entitled to his secrets, as are we all, but I want you to have a grip on the situation before you put yourself in a position that's hard to work yourself out of."_

Bobbi was silent for a moment, digesting the information Natasha had given her.

"So what would you recommend I do?" she asked finally, testing each word as it left her mouth.

"_Whatever you think is necessary,"_ Natasha said with a chuckle. _"Test the waters, play both sides as I'm sure you're already doing. Trust your instincts. I'll even keep Clint from killing himself so you don't have to worry about the big lug dying in action."_

She laughed at that. "He'll need all the help he can get."

"_Don't I know it," _Natasha said. _"He's just a ridiculously strong trouble-magnet. I might even need to recruit Rogers' help for this one."_

Bobbi grinned. "Thanks, Natasha."

"_It's no problem. More of my responsibility, anyway."_

"So you admit you two are together?"

"_Never said that."_

"You meant it though."

"_More of a responsibility as your older sister – it's not like I can just let your brother _die_."_

Bobbi felt a flare of warmth grow in her chest at Natasha's words. She had only just begun to see Tasha as anyone besides Clint's partner or the Black Widow, and knowing that Natasha also felt that sibling bond with her made it all the better.

"Oh, so it's for me, not for him."

"_Exactly."_

"I like that idea."

"_Good. Because I'm sticking with it."_

A call came through on the other line of Bobbi's phone.

"Just a second, Tasha," she said, the nickname slipping out before she meant to say it. Bobbi shook her head slightly, brushing that thought aside and putting Natasha on hold.

"Yes?" she asked, having noted that Gonzales was the caller.

"_Coulson's team is leaving in five minutes Agent Morse. Be up in the main office by then."_

He hung up, and after Bobbi took a moment to process what he'd said she switched back to Natasha's call.

"_Have you been summoned?" _she asked.

"I have," Bobbi confirmed, pausing for a few seconds before deciding to ask the question that had been burning a hole in her mind.

"Tasha, did you trust Coulson?"

"_I do trust Coulson, little bird,"_ Natasha answered, a distinct warmth leaking through her voice. _"Even after the secrets he's kept from me, and the lies he's told."_

And there she had hit the nail on the head.

"_If there's one thing both the Red Room and SHIELD taught me," _she continued, her voice dropping, _"it's that secrets can be both very powerful and very dangerous. But they can also keep you safe. Remember that, Bobbi." _

"I will… Thank you, Tasha."

"_My pleasure."_

* * *

**I was in a sort of Natasha mood. :) And we hadn't seen her in a while... Now you know what Natasha knew about Theta Protocol and Coulson in general (and if there's any confusion, Clint knows about Coulson being alive, but that's about it). I hope it sounded realistic, especially after this last episode (2x20), where things were revealed.**

**Guys, I'm not ready for the finale next week. NOT READY AT ALL. Especially with the way we finished off that episode. And the next is called "SOS"? Oh dear. :(**

**Also, did everyone just assume that Bobbi would be going in alone to scope things out? Or did they think she was coming in later? I need to watch the episode again to make sense of it all, but it's really confusing right now!**

********IMPORTANT NOTE: Would you guys like my AOU oneshots to be added here, after the finale ones, or in a completely separate oneshot collection, so that chronology and spoilers wouldn't be a problem?**

********^^ PLEASE LET ME KNOW! There will probably be 4-5 of them, not _quite _as long as these chapters (closer to 2-3K words/chapter, I think)**

**Tell me what you liked! (Or didn't like, I suppose.) If anything seems completely weird or totally out of character, please let me know!**

**Oh, and can I just brag for a moment how basically every headcanon I've come up with for Bobbi's motivations for doing everything is completely in line with these past few episodes? I'm super excited! And we'd better see more Huntingbird in the next episode.**

**Oh yeah, would anyone be interested in a smallish (maybe) oneshot, set after 2x19 "The Dirty Half Dozen", where Bobbi encounters Simmons (who can't sleep because she killed Bakshi and can't make amends with herself). I've got a little bit written already, but I want to know if you all would be interested! There wouldn't be any pairings (except some background Fitzsimmons and Huntingbird), but there would be a lot of Hurt/Comfort and Protective!Bobbi. :) I need to cheer myself up after the way "Scars" left me. :'(**

**Anyway, I hope you all are doing well! Thanks for reading/following/favoriting/reviewing! I love you all!**

**Until next Tuesday (or sooner...),**

**~Dancer**


	9. 2x20 - Scars

**Set during 2x20 – "Scars" and contains minor spoilers for AOU (hardly noticeable, but if you're worried...)**

* * *

Learning that all Coulson had been hiding was a Helicarrier had come as both a relief and a blow to Bobbi. It fit with what Natasha had told her – Coulson had been working on something that he'd kept hidden from them, but it certainly hadn't been something to worry about.

Before Gonzales came out into the open Bobbi might have thought of the hidden tech as a sort of Cavalry to call in, as a "secret weapon" that Coulson would call in, but it turned out that it had actually been used for good, instead of destruction.

Unfortunately, neither Agent Gonzales nor Agent Weaver seemed to understand. Which was why Bobbi had been called to a meeting on the Iliad, to discuss Theta Protocol, when in all actuality there was little to discuss.

"Cards on the table," Coulson said, throwing down a triangle-shaped lanyard as he turned away from the screen where one of many news reports on the destruction in Sokovia was being broadcasted.

"Obviously you and Fury have been keeping busy," Gonzales stated, his voice impassive.

Bobbi paced slowly behind him, willing herself to stay calm. The last she knew Clint was going in with the other Avengers to save Natasha and stop Ultron from destroying Sokovia and, ultimately, the world. He'd called her from the Quinjet they were taking to Eastern Europe to let her know that they were on their way to the deciding battle, and he hadn't called her back since.

Grainy video footage had shown him and the other Avengers, as well as three others Bobbi didn't know, fighting Ultron's forces, but there was no word yet on who had died or lived in the battle, and Bobbi was struggling to keep her emotions contained.

Coulson explained why he and Fury had started Theta Protocol, which made sense – half-truths had gotten them nowhere, so they had decided that simply abstaining from the truth altogether was the best way to go.

Admittedly, withholding information hadn't worked very well in SHIELD's past either, but it had all worked out in the end, hadn't it? So _why_ were the children she was watching arguing like they could change the past?

"-a "break in case of emergency" type of thing."

"Seems like you broke it wide open," Weaver said coolly.

"_And_ saved the day in the process," Bobbi felt obliged to point out.

"What has transpired over the last week is a lot to take in, I know," Coulson said, going on to explain his motivations.

Bobbi wanted to scoff. _A lot to take in? _None of the people here had family out there fighting. Yes, they had all been affected by Ultron's takeover of the internet. Important information had been deleted (most of their files had only been saved by Skye holding back Ultron electronically long enough to secure their data on external drives), and communications had been all but nonexistent, except for one-use phones. But none of them (excepting Phil, maybe) had the equivalent of _family_ out there, fighting on the front lines.

Their discussion somehow turned from joining forces with Coulson (Bobbi was glad _that_ was partially solved) to an even more controversial topic. As Gonzales outlined everything the powered people had done, how they needed to be Indexed and studied, Bobbi felt a cold shiver run up her spine. She already knew full-well what Gonzales thought of enhanced persons, and she wasn't looking forward to his seeming declaration of war.

Gonzales thought of them as less than human, as little more than animals, as he had shown her on multiple occasions when discussing Skye. His words that he spoke made Bobbi's stomach churn uncomfortably, but as Weaver and Oliver nodded their assent and May even seemed to agree, Bobbi knew there was no way her opinion would be listened to.

It was one of the consequences of being the youngest member of the board. Unless she managed to present information in a way that it complied with their idea of how things should work, it was ignored.

She would just have to wait until tensions settled down before making a stand. And perhaps meeting with the leader or leaders of the powered people would help. There would be a chance to come to understandings and to release prejudice on both sides of the conflict, hopefully with the end result of forming a truce of sorts.

"You think we should Index them?" Coulson clarified with Gonzales.

Gonzales nodded. "And study them, make sure they are safe. We don't need more superhumans running around unchecked," he said, making a rather obvious look toward the screen, which still showed the destruction of Sokovia.

"We need to understand where their powers come from, and how to subdue them if worst comes to worst," Weaver added, stepping forward. "Agent Simmons has already experimented with this for Agent Skye, but the potential uses of this technology haven't been explored for use on other powered individuals."

Coulson narrowed his eyebrows in thought, glanced over at May (Bobbi noticed she only gave him a blank look), and nodded.

"That sounds acceptable," he agreed. "I'll have a word with Skye about convincing Lincoln to assist us when he does wake up. Until then, let's adjourn for a break. It'll be difficult to take any further steps until we know the number of powered people we're dealing with or where they're based."

They exited the room, much to Bobbi's appreciation, and she headed straight to the kitchen area to make herself some tea. She needed something to distract her.

But on the way there, her phone vibrated in her pocket.

Her heart leapt when she saw it was Clint.

"Hello?" she asked, answering the phone immediately.

_"Hey, Bobs," _Clint said.

Bobbi breathed a sigh of relief, glad tears coming to her eyes.

"Oh thank god you're safe."

_"You can't get rid of me that easily,"_ he joked.

"You already tried your hardest," Bobbi scolded. "How was I to know you wouldn't get blown up by a robot this time?"

Clint chuckled weakly, but didn't answer.

"Clint?"

_"I- I'm okay, little bird,"_ he said finally, and she heard the tiredness in his voice. _"It's been- it's been a _really _long day."_

* * *

_"But you're safe?"_ Bobbi asked.

Clint smiled at the care in her voice. "I'm good – not dead yet, and not mortally wounded. Nat's good too – a bit more bruised than I am, but then again I _am_ a long-distance specialist."

_"Shut up, _Hawkeye_,"_ Bobbi drawled, and he could practically hear the eyeroll in her voice. _"How did you manage to take down robots with a _bow and arrow_, anyway?"_

"Mad skill," he said, staring out the window of the Helicarrier, drinking a beer. He'd gotten patched up in the infirmary (only because Hill made him) and then basically run away, not wanting to see the team's pitying or sorrowful looks.

While he usually would have found the highest rafter and hidden there, such a task was made difficult by the fact all the hallways were the same height, and even the training room had a relatively low ceiling. So, contrary to character, he'd gone to the lowest deck with a window, grabbing the first alcoholic beverage he could find (he would have preferred vodka, but at the moment he wasn't picky), and had called Bobbi, wanting to let her know he was okay, especially with their limited communication the past few days.

_"I'm sure," _Bobbi deadpanned. _"Just like mad skill got you injured-"_

"It was just a scratch!" he exclaimed, exasperated. Bobbi must have been talking to Natasha-

"Clint, you down here?" a voice called down the empty hallway.

Speak of the devil.

_"Is that Natasha?"_ Bobbi asked, apparently having heard the shout.

"Clint!" Natasha exclaimed, walking quickly toward him. "I went to the infirmary to find you and you were gone – you got shot!"

"It was _one_ bullet, Nat."

She glared at him, raising an eyebrow. "I don't believe you."

He groaned.

_"Natasha!" _Bobbi called, loud enough for Clint to pull his ear away from the receiver (a feat in and of itself) and for Natasha to hear her.

"Can I speak with Bobbi?" She asked Clint, layering sweetness into her voice.

He handed the phone over, too exhausted to argue.

* * *

_"Hey, Bobbi,"_ Natasha said.

"Hey yourself, Widow," Bobbi said, letting a grin show on her face. "How are you doing? Did you get _any _sleep? Clint tells me you were caught up in Sokovia."

_"Not the worst accommodations I've had," _Natasha admitted. _"Though they could have turned the heat on. Turns out even underground, Sokovia's pretty cold in May."_

"I can believe that. Can't be worse than the tensions here though," Bobbi scoffed, sighing.

_"Clint, go get us a bottle of vodka- no, I don't care that you don't know where it is. Check Fury's office if you need to. He'll assume it was me, anyway."_

Once Clint had successfully been distracted, Natasha returned to the conversation.

_"Are they still arguing about Theta Protocol?" _she asked incredulously. _"I thought even Gonzales would understand-"_

"Oh, he understands all right, but that doesn't mean he's happy about it," Bobbi said with another sigh. "The others aren't too thrilled about Phil's secret either, however benign it was. They did agree to join forces though. So at least we'll be working together."

_"Well, that's something," _Natasha said, letting out a sigh of her own.

"Are you _really_ okay, Tasha?" Bobbi asked hesitantly after a moment of silence.

There was another long pause before she answered. _"I will be."_

Bobbi frowned, then stepped out on a limb. "Does it have to do with what the Maximoff girl-"

_"Wanda."_

She raised an eyebrow. "-what Wanda did to you? Has the effect worn off, or are you just putting up a front for Clint."

_"I'm not answering that over the phone," _Natasha said shortly. _"But you of all people should know, Morse – I've always got a front put up, except on very rare occasions. I'm a person of circumstance, as I once told Mister Steve Rogers himself."_

"I figured as much," Bobbi said, disheartened, but not surprised. Natasha was very private, and she wasn't about to bare her soul, especially not in as impersonal a situation as a phone call. "Just- know that I'm here if you do need to talk, yeah?"

_"If Clint's giving me a hard time, you'll be the first one I go to," _Natasha assured her in a low, sincere tone.

Bobbi smiled.

_"But right now it sounds like you've got your own troubles to be getting on with-"_

_"I found two bottles of vodka – Belvedere and U'luvka-"_

Natasha groaned. _"And I've got more-than-likely subpar vodka to drink," _she finished. _"What, he didn't have Kauffman?" _she asked Clint.

Bobbi laughed. "How about you call me back when you're not drunk," she said.

_"Clint'll be the only one drunk,"_ Natasha said wryly. _"I can hold my liquor, unlike some people."_

_"That was one time! And you challenged me to a drinking contest – it was totally unfair!"_ Clint exclaimed.

_"Say goodbye to our sister."_

A familiar warmth bloomed in Bobbi's chest at the term of endearment.

_"Talk to you later, little bird!" _

"Talk to you later, Clint," Bobbi said with a grin. "I'll probably call you back later tonight, when I've got a chance."

_"Sounds good," _Clint said. _"But what we really need is to meet up somewhere. Do you think you could make it out to the farm one of these days?"_

She _wasn't_ going to be able to, at least, not any time soon, but Clint didn't know what was going on, or why it would be so hard for her to get away for a few days.

"I'll see if I can get some time off," she said with a grin, skillfully avoiding a direct answer. "Now go and drink your crappy vodka."

_"Until later, маленькая птица," _Natasha said.

It was obvious what the Russian words meant, and Bobbi couldn't be happier.

"Until then, Tasha," she said, smiling.

She hung up the phone, took a deep, steadying breath and, feeling lighter than she had all week, finished her trek to the kitchen to get a cup of tea. If things went how she anticipated, she needed a bit of caffeine to wake her up before the next meeting Phil and Gonzales called.

* * *

**маленькая птица = "little bird"**

**So this chapter's a little shorter, but I really wanted to get this up before the episode tonight airs... I was planning to have a chapter about Bobbi and Kara's relationship, but with the way these next two episodes have been set up - with Bobbi's kidnapping and the sneak peek at the interaction between her and Ward and Kara, well, let's just say it's setting up for a really suspenseful, two-parter story for the next two oneshots. *evil laugh***

**I hope the spoilers weren't too spoilery - I'm trying to save the AOU spoilers for the AOU oneshots. Of course, I need you all to vote - do you want to see the AOU oneshots in their own collection, or along with this one? I've got one vote for each side, but that doesn't give me a good idea of what you all want!**

**So, even if you don't regularly review, please tell me _where_ you'd like to see them, and/or _what_ you'd like to see in them (I'm thinking 3-5 oneshots...)**

**Thank you all for reading - I'll see you tomorrow for the Bobbi and Jemma oneshot I was talking about last week - a little tag to "The Dirty Half Dozen"!**

**Love you all - please review what you thought of this chapter! (It's a little different, so I really want to know what you thought!)**

**Thanks again, and good luck surviving the episode tonight! (I know _I'll_ need it at least...)**

**~Dancer**


	10. 2x18-21 (SOS Part 1)

**We're mixing it up these next 2 (or 3?) chapters! See Author's Note at the bottom for info.**

** Contains scenes from 1x19 – "The Dirty Half Dozen", 1x20 – "Scars" and the first half of the season finale (2x21) – "SOS Part 1".**

* * *

Bobbi had mixed feelings about Kara Palamas coming to the Playground. On one hand, she had been an excellent field agent, but on the other hand she had been HYDRA – brainwashed with Whitehall's Faustus method, which had never failed on record after his decades of perfecting the technique. It didn't help Bobbi's conscience that she personally had been the one to hand Agent Palamas, albeit unknowingly and indirectly, over to Bakshi and Whitehall in the first place.

Bobbi had been working with Clint as her sole partner for a few years when he was sent on a mission to Europe to take out a Red Room Asset. He had failed to kill Natasha and brought her in instead, and Fury had replaced Bobbi's role as Clint's partner with Natasha. At first Bobbi had been frustrated with Fury's decisions, but eventually she had to admit that Clint and Natasha worked better together than Clint and herself ever had. Strike Team Delta was deadly, and always got the job done.

And, when her bird-brained brother had finally managed to introduce her and Natasha, they had gotten along like life-long friends, with Clint cursing his luck as they pointed out his many annoying traits and quirks over a couple of glasses of wine at the safehouse. Bobbi couldn't bring herself to resent the woman after that.

So Bobbi moved on with her career, still working with Clint occasionally, but usually with others or on her own missions. It was on one of the solo missions she had met Hunter (originally a target she needed to get intel from, who ended up becoming a bit more), and she had met Kara when Fury partnered them together to lead a team in South America.

They had taken down the thugs who were planning to bomb the Argentine president's villa in almost record time, and Fury had gone on to partner the two of them together every so often. They weren't the best of friends, but they would get the job done and share a beer or two afterwards.

Bobbi remembered the guilt she had felt when Bakshi had informed her of their "new arrival" in the form of Agent 33 of SHIELD. She had immediately recognized the number and felt horrible that it was her intel that had gotten the woman captured.

Her only consolation was that Kara would never know it was Bobbi who had "given away" her location. Even if she still felt guilty for everything that had happened to the woman, she knew it had been her only option of getting an in with HYDRA without outing Coulson's or Gonzales' teams, neither of which was an option.

It wasn't until Coulson's team headed off to the Arctic that Bobbi found enough courage to meet Kara. She wasn't even sure if the woman would remember her from before the brainwashing, but Bobbi needed closure, and the only way she was going to get that was by actually talking to her.

She passed Mack and Hunter in the kitchen-slash-living room and felt a tightness take over her chest. Lance hadn't even looked at her since getting back, and there he was, laughing with Mack like it was old times, before Gonzales' SHIELD had come out in the open.

Sighing, Bobbi continued down to the lab.

When she got there Kara was just finishing having her blood taken, not for the first time more than likely. They knew Whitehall had brainwashed her, but Bobbi hadn't been able to give them any intel on whether he had enhanced her or not.

It seemed likely, especially with the man's fixation on experimentation with the obelisk and powered people in general, and SHIELD needed to make sure, just in case.

"It's funny," she said from the doorway of the small room, "I don't mind blood, but _needles_?" she shook her head, "Not a fan."

"I'm trying not to look at any of it," Kara said, sounding exactly like the woman Bobbi had worked with all those years ago, but the movements and presence were wrong, almost more disconcerting to witness than when she had been serving Whitehall, completely brainwashed. At least then she had been acting like her normal self, just loyal to HYDRA and not to SHIELD.

She laid on the bed, putting pressure on the gauze on her arm, and Bobbi couldn't help but feel like the way Kara was acting felt _wrong_.

"But, this isn't really about tests, right?" Kara continued. "This is you guys keeping an eye on me where I can't leave."

Bobbi couldn't deny that – SHIELD was still wary of both Ward and Kara's intentions, knowing that both of them had been allied with HYDRA.

"Better than a cell, I guess," Bobbi commented, walking forward to take the seat that had just been vacated by the scientist. "Plus, we want to make sure they didn't mess with you physically, just-"

"Messed with my head," Kara cut in, sounding more like her old self. "I know." Kara had always been an independent soul, questioning orders much like Bobbi and Clint did. They had joked about it several times while sharing post-mission drinks – how they would be the ones who finally caused Fury to blow his top.

"How much do you remember, from before?" Bobbi asked, testing the waters. Brainwashed people could sometimes remember their past, but not always. She didn't want to force any memories on Kara – Bobbi knew too well just how frustrating that could be, from her relationship with Hunter – but wanted to at least see if she remembered anything, if she could help the woman remember that SHIELD wasn't a terrible place after HYDRA had been found within.

"Pieces, missing some details," Kara said. But Bobbi could tell the woman was lying. At _best_ she remembered some pieces of some years – most likely faces of family members or key bits of information that had been drilled into her head for years. She likely had no idea who Bobbi was.

Bobbi could only hope that the same sort of memories held true for Kara's time at HYDRA – as the head of security at Whitehall's base, Bobbi had met with her a few times while she was brainwashed, and it wouldn't help her recovery to recognize Bobbi's face from HYDRA in a SHIELD setting.

"You know, you and I met a few times," Bobbi said with a smile, trying to play down their relationship. Kara didn't need to know the full backstory until she was ready, and keeping it vague made it easy to warp the truth. "So, I'm here for you. If you start remembering, come to me. I'll help you out."

"Thank you," Kara said sincerely, with a small nod. "You're the first one here to treat me like a person."

Bobbi wanted to explain it was because she knew Kara from before HYDRA, from before the brainwashing, and knew that she hadn't been a bad person. The others hadn't, and only saw the brainwashed woman in front of them.

"What Whitehall did to you, it's unthinkable," she said in an attempt to be sympathetic. Gone was their playful banter from their missions.

"Yeah," Kara said, looking down. "But at least one good thing came out of it."

She looked up to meet Bobbi's eyes again. "I met Grant."

Bobbi wasn't sure how much of a "good thing" that was – the man was a traitor and had swaggered around like he owned the place ever since he arrived at the Playground, who cared about Bakshi's intel, the man was a psychopath – and it must've shown on her face.

"No, just wait," Kara said, sounding sure of herself. "He'll get Bakshi to help. You'll see the Grant I do."

It was painfully obvious she had latched onto the man, and had seemingly transferred her allegiance from Whitehall to Ward, but Bobbi nodded with a false smile dragged onto her face.

"We'll see," she said, keeping her voice even. "But until then, remember my offer, yeah? I'll be here if you want to talk."

She only had a few minutes before she'd be called to oversee the mission to the Arctic in the main office, and stood to leave.

"I'll remember," Kara said with a smile, and Bobbi left the lab to head to Coulson's office.

She didn't speak to Hunter or the other agents as she passed them listening around Mack's impromptu transceiver, instead hurrying up the stairs to where Gonzales and Mack were waiting.

* * *

"Bobbi, Coulson wants us to scout ahead," May said, coming up to Bobbi from down the hall, "already locked in the coordinates."

She felt a thrill that she was going to do _something_, even if it was just scouting. Though she wondered why May was coming with her, and not another agent. But Bobbi had more things on her mind that distracted her as she geared up and headed to one of the Quinjets, strapped in and readied to take off.

First was the discovery that Mack had decided to leave SHIELD, which in all truth wasn't much of a surprise. He hadn't been entirely the same after his experience with the mind control in San Juan and with his already-established mistrust of anything supernatural or alien it had morphed his opinions into even stronger ones. He hadn't trusted Coulson before, and certainly didn't trust him after being possessed or whatever had happened.

Then there was the mission to talk with the Inhumans, as Skye had told them her people were called. Bobbi had a bad feeling about it as a whole, and she guessed it had something to do with Gonzales' smug grin and his overall attitude toward powered people.

The rest of the council had cited Coulson's attachment to Skye as the reason he shouldn't be their liaison, which Bobbi agreed with, but she didn't feel comfortable with Gonzales as their ambassador either. Her conversation with him after Skye and Lincoln had ended up in their basement stuck in her mind, not to mention his many references to Skye as less than human because of her powers. It was obvious Gonzales held little respect for powered people, as he had proved it to Bobbi time and time again.

Coulson might be too close to the situation, but she was pretty sure Gonzales was too antagonistic to be a proper representative for SHIELD.

Then there was his whole comparison to Tony Stark creating Ultron. Bobbi had been in contact with two of the Avengers, and she knew they hadn't just laid down and let Tony Stark do what he pleased – no one in their right mind would do that. In fact, Clint had expressly complained about Stark's secrecy with regards to Ultron and why it had been a terrible idea, causing the problem in the first place.

In other words, Gonzales' comparison was a moot point – their own situation was _nothing_ like that of the Avengers. And who was to say that Gonzales was the right choice, to let _him_ do as he pleased?

Unfortunately, Bobbi wouldn't have been able to express her thoughts or knowledge without an extensive explanation – one they didn't have time for in their situation. And she didn't even want to think of Coulson's _or_ Gonzales' faces when they discovered she'd been in contact with two of the Avengers for going on a few months.

And then there was Hunter. His silent treatment was understandable, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. They had gone longer without speaking to each other, but never had they been so close in proximity, while being so far away in their relationship at the same time.

While he had made up with Mack (and Bobbi _knew_ it was only to spite her – she didn't need Mack reminding her), the most he had given her since returning with Coulson and Fitz was a side-eye on the main deck of the Iliad earlier that morning. She had told Mack it would be a while, as she had expected, but she hoped it would be sooner rather than later that Hunter would at least speak to her again.

She wasn't sure how long she could stand the sort of isolation he specialized in dealing out.

Her thoughts turned to the view of clouds outside the window of the cockpit, the rolling hills of white against the blue sky and the serenity they gave her before Bobbi thought about her revelation to Mack while they were in the training room at the Playground.

It wasn't really secret that she kept her feelings to herself – it was part of being a field agent. You had to learn to only show what was necessary for the mission, and keep personal matters aside. But that was where she and Hunter really had their differences. Her ex-husband had always worn his emotions proudly on his sleeve, letting his anger, frustration, or lust guide his actions, while Bobbi had always been the more level-headed of the two.

What Bobbi hadn't meant to tell Mack was that she felt like something was wrong with her because of her ability to lock it all up. She hardly ever found it difficult to cut off emotional ties when necessary, had always pushed her feelings to the back of her mind for her to process at a later time. In fact, most of the time, it was downright easy to cut herself off, and _that _was what worried her.

May hadn't said anything since they'd gotten in the plane, but it wasn't as if the two of them had much to talk about, Bobbi reminded herself.

She let the silence drag on for a few more minutes, then attempted to start a conversation. Bobbi knew May was conflicted about who to follow – Coulson or Gonzales – even if the older woman never let anyone in to her most private thoughts.

"Mack quit today," she said. They shared a look. "You ever wonder where you'd be without SHIELD?" she asked.

"Actually, been giving that a lot of thought recently," May said. Bobbi couldn't blame her. "You?"

"Hunter asked me to leave once, to be with him," she admitted, thinking back to that night, right after they had both finished missions and had been able to meet up. "It was the one time I was tempted to walk away."

They had laid in bed, her head on his chest, eyes still red from tears she had shed for the two agents on her team she had lost. Her muscles had ached pleasantly, but she remembered cuts along her arms and a bandage tied around her shin where a deep gash hadn't stopped seeping, even after a couple of hours.

They had been curled together under the sheets, and he had asked her to leave. She'd thought he was joking at first, but he had insisted he was serious. He had even been sweet about it, saying how he didn't want to see her hurt or in pain from her missions. _"You've saved enough people,"_ he'd said, dropping a kiss on top of her hair. _"Why don't you let them save themselves for a change?"_

For a brief moment she'd been tempted to let it all go, to leave SHIELD behind and run away with him – elope where even Fury wouldn't be able to track them down – but she had declined, knowing that SHIELD was the biggest part of her life. She couldn't just _give it up._ That had led to a round of shouting at eleven at night, followed by another round of intense lovemaking, but after that the question had always lingered. _Would she give up SHIELD to be with him?_

The answer had always been no.

* * *

An hour or so later, after a lot of uncomfortable silence, the autopilot announced they were ten minutes out. May went to the back of the Quinjet to check something, and Bobbi stayed up to cover the silent comms. It was strange – she had expected Gonzales and Weaver to contact them after they took off, to check in, but May had been given orders, and Bobbi went along with them.

She got very suspicious however, when autopilot set to descend and they were nowhere near _any_ sort of civilization, if the satellite imaging was anything to go by. There were two heat signature blips, more than likely animals if the trees for miles around were anything to go by.

"Hey, May, autopilot has us descending. You sure about those coordinates?"

But the other woman pulled a gun on her as she approached. "Funny how you're so broken up about betraying Hunter," she simpered, "'Cause it seems like you couldn't care less about what you did to _me._"

The flash of realization was almost painful. "Kara."

One touch to the nano mask revealed the true identity of the woman in front of her.

"You just sat there, pretending to comfort me," Kara said in her own voice, still aiming a gun at Bobbi. "But you were just trying to see if I remembered. Well I do."

Well, that wasn't what Bobbi had meant, but the woman seemed to be deluded. Bobbi lunged forward, pushing the gun away so it fired into the wall behind her and kneeing Kara in the gut.

She forced the piece of metal back to hit Kara in the forehead then pushed it to the floor. A punch to the side of the face sent Kara spinning, and Bobbi ducked under Kara's own fist that had come toward her head.

Grabbing Kara's arms that were up in a block, Bobbi threw the other woman off balance, and threw another punch, which she ducked under. Kara ran at Bobbi, throwing her back, and caught her ribs with a punch, but when she reset to deal a blow Bobbi was able to jump back, dodging it.

Bobbi grabbed the other woman's head and pushed her to the side, stumbling a bit due to the turbulence of landing, and forced her into the display screen mounted on the wall, shattering it.

They fell together to the floor, and Bobbi scrambled up, the slick floor sliding beneath her boots. She kicked high as the other woman stood, but she dropped to avoid it. Bobbi grabbed the railing above her head and spun her body around, her feet hitting Kara's left shoulder and knocking her sideways. Bobbi let the momentum carry her around again and drove her heels into the woman's face, knocking her out so she fell backward onto the seats.

Bobbi panted heavily, brushing her hair out of her face with one hand. Her ribs ached and there were a few bumps and bruises from the fight, but Kara hadn't been a tough opponent. If they hadn't been on a descending plane, Bobbi could have had her down in thirty seconds.

The Quinjet settled on uneven ground, and Bobbi took a moment to regain her footing before checking the equipment. Kara had disabled the GPS and they were far out of cell phone service. The best Bobbi would be able to do was scan her surroundings to gauge where she was (apparently in some forest somewhere), and use the sun's position to give her a general direction of where to head to get back to the Playground.

She jumped out the side exit of the plane and scanned her surroundings, though she didn't see anything familiar. Why had Kara brought them here? Just to have an empty place to bury her?

The sight of a male figure in Bobbi's peripheral vision caught her eye and she turned, only to feel the deep bite of a bullet in her thigh. She only just registered the icy, burning pain of the ICER dendrotoxin radiating from the wound before she sank into blackness.

* * *

"Have you had _any _contact with Bobbi?" May asked them through the video link. "Her Quinjet _still_ hasn't arrived, and she's not answering communications."

Hunter felt his heart shoot into his throat, the blood rushing through his veins almost deafening him. Fitz and Coulson looked over at him, with pity and dismissal accordingly, and he rushed down to the main control area. Even if Bobbi wasn't responding on comms, that could be explained away by system malfunctions or something else. But she always answered her phone, unless she was in the middle of a mission.

It was one of those things he had learned about Bobbi – as unreliable as she could be, she always had her phone on her person. She would answer it if the situation permitted, or let the call be directed to voicemail if it didn't.

However, after he had dialed her number three times, the phone ringing and ringing until the line cut out, Hunter was getting anxious. Coulson had sent Fitz down to help him figure out where Bobbi was by checking the records, and he was going through the Playground's flight log, attempting to see if something was off with Bobbi's departure.

"Her phone's not picking up – not even voicemail!" he exclaimed after the fourth failed call. If he was honest with himself, he really _wasn't_ angry with Bobbi, just resentful that she'd hidden such a large secret from him. Every time they had a falling out he was determined that he'd show her, that they wouldn't be getting back together until she apologized to him.

He'd been following the same pattern, even if it wasn't the usual long-distance silence he typically kept up, but a more personal silent treatment that was almost childish in nature. He had even gone to Mack first to forgive him, even though Mack had been much more involved in Hunter's kidnapping as it was.

"Flight records suggest that Bobbi's Quinjet left before the other three," Fitz said, pulling up the stats for the plane Bobbi had piloted.

It was just supposed to be a scouting sweep before Gonzales and May approached, Hunter thought to himself. Why had she left before them, and _why_ wasn't she answering any form of communication. If it was any other agent, Hunter would suspect them of going rogue, but not Bobbi.

Her devotion to SHIELD, to her job, was something that had both impressed him and irritated him for the duration of their relationship. He never understood why she would want to tie herself to such an organization as SHIELD with all their rules and regulations. Mercenary work had always appealed to him more – the freedom, the risk…

"There's no indication of a crash, the transponder's offline," Fitz continued, drawing Hunter out of his thoughts and into the present as he looked over Fitz's shoulder at the specs. "Uh, it's _possible_ that somebody disconnected it, but…"

The engineer waved his hands vaguely, and Hunter knew what they were both thinking: Bobbi was the only one flying the plane, and why would _she_ disconnect the communications relay?

Unless something was making her act strangely…

"Forget about the plane, could you pull up the-"

"-footage of Bobbi, from the base," Fitz snapped his fingers, "from before she left. Good idea."

Hunter was glad he and Fitz were on the same wavelength, but he _really_ didn't need the curly-hair Scot to do that.

"You know I _am_ capable of finishing my own-"

"-sentences. Yes you are. I'm sorry," Fitz said, only sounding a little sorry in Hunter's opinion. Maybe Coulson was right and they were spending too much time together.

Fitz typed a few lines of code, opening the archives of footage from the base.

"Okay, that's May," he said, pointing out the woman on the feed.

"And that's the woman that once set my 1967 convertible GTO on fire," Hunter snapped, feeling frustrated. That had been his favorite car. Of course, Bobbi'd had a pretty good reason for blowing it up. "The question on the table is not who, but where?"

And why, Hunter added in his head. None of it made any sense.

"No, that's what I'm saying," Fitz said, pausing the video, and running a facial recognition scan. "Facial recognition tagged this footage, and ten minutes later, see?"

Two different timestamps of the same hallway came up side-by-side on the screen. "That's May leaving the base. Again."

Hunter contemplated the two stills of footage with a furrowed brow, then it came to him. "It's Agent 33!"

They might not have discovered why or where, but they had a who. And that was a start.

"What would she want with Bobbi?"

Hunter shook his head, eyes fixated on the blonde curls that framed the face of the only woman he had ever loved and hated enough to marry.

"No idea, mate. But I can guess that whatever it is, it's not good. Let's show this to Coulson."

* * *

"Clint, calm down."

"My sister is not picking up her phone, and it's unnatural. There's no reason for me to calm down, Nat!"

"Bobbi _said_ that she might not call you for a while," Natasha reminded him, trailing her fingers down his arm. "She's probably been busy."

Clint had been calling Bobbi every ten minutes since they had finished dinner in Stark's elaborate dining room, repaired as it was from the damage Ultron had dealt to it. She hadn't answered any of them, and even though Natasha was trying to reason with him, she couldn't help but feel like something was off about the situation.

"It hasn't gone to voicemail _once_," Clint said for the hundredth time. "I'm telling you, something's not right."

"Just because someone's phone dies, doesn't mean it's the end of the world."

"You don't know Bobbi like I do!" Clint raved, springing up from the couch where he'd sat bouncing his leg erratically for the last few minutes. "She said she'd call back later tonight, and she _never_ forgets to charge her phone. It's ridiculous, the amount of stuff she remembers – little things, like-"

"Clint, you being upset isn't going to help Bobbi at all," Natasha said finally, standing up herself to get on an even level with him. "I know you're worried, but you're not going anywhere in this state. Calm down."

He obediently took a few deep breaths, rolling his eyes as he did so, but it accomplished what Natasha had wanted it to. He was no longer ranting about Bobbi.

"Like I said, Bobbi's probably just been busy," Natasha repeated. "Especially with everything that's going on."

"She'd still never turn off her phone," Clint grumbled before staring straight at his girlfriend. "Hang on, what do you mean 'with everything that's going on'?"

Shit.

"Ultron's takeover, the resulting destruction," Natasha faked, playing it off coolly. "You know Bobbi. She's got a big heart, she's probably over in Sokovia helping the refugees. She's got nothing better to do now."

"That still wouldn't explain why she hasn't called back yet," Clint argued, though he still had a skeptical eyebrow raised at Natasha. She knew that look and it wasn't good. Natasha prided herself on being good at hiding her feelings, but Clint always seemed to work them out in the end, no matter what she did.

"I can't help you," Natasha said, holding back most of the truth. "But don't forget – Bobbi's a big girl. She can take care of herself."

"The _Mockingbird_ and all that," Clint muttered. "But she can't take care of herself all the time."

"And I'm sure you'll be there when she needs you," Natasha assured him, glancing over at the clock as it changed to half-past midnight. "For now let's get some sleep and we can figure it out in the morning."

"I'm not tired," Clint said, even as he yawned.

"And I'm not Russian," Natasha scoffed, rolling her eyes. "That's not even to mention the fact that you've been stressing over this for almost four hours now. Find something else to focus on for a few hours, like sleep, and I'll let you call her again after that."

"Fine," he muttered, disgruntled, as he stumbled off to bed.

As soon as he was out of the room, Natasha had her computer open and started the task of hacking into the Playground's base (Fury always did have stupid names for things).

"Where are you, Bobbi?" she murmured, fingers flying over the keyboard.

* * *

**Do you guys hate me for leaving off there? I might hate me, in your position... *evil laugh***

**So Clint's suspicious, Natasha's secretly worried, and Hunter's still in love (of course).**

**I was going to get more into the season finale, but I also felt like the lead-up to it was super important, even though we didn't get the whole, cohesive story in the show because of the Inhumans' storyline. So there I was, nearly 5,000 words in, and I basically said: "Okay, I need to cut this off somewhere."**

**But that also means we get to start off the next chapter with some lovely torture. And end it with some fluff. Unless my brain and writing spirals out of control again (I might do the whole mission from contrasting Hunter/Bobbi views, would you like that?), then it'll end with quite a bit of angst and we'll have some fluff to make up for it afterwards! (I just _know_ you guys are going to love what I have planned! ;)**

**Sorry, also, for having this up later than expected! I was teaching preschoolers about space all morning yesterday and my computer overheated last night (for absolutely NO reason, let me tell you), and I _might_ have fallen asleep rewriting the last portion of this chapter.**

**Also, to the two Guests who asked about when I update (and anyone else who's new to this ride who wants to know):**

**-**I try and update Tuesdays in the late afternoon/evening/night, since the show aired on Tuesdays and I wanted to have each episode out a week after it aired. This one's late because of reasons stated above, but I will always endeavor to keep to that schedule!

**Thanks to everyone who had read, followed, favorited, or reviewed! You guys are all amazing!**

**Give me feedback (positive or negative) in a review, and thanks for stopping by!**

**See you next week,**

**~Dancer**


	11. 2x21 (SOS Part 2)

**Scenes from episode 2x21 – "SOS Part 1"  
****Warnings for torture (not much more than was in the episode, but the section is marked just in case, as it does get a bit graphic)  
^^The rating has also been upped from K+ to T because of this chapter - mainly for torture, but also for swearing and innuendo **

* * *

Bobbi jolted awake, senses instantly on alert for everything around her. The metal cuffs around her wrists, the rough wood beneath her palms, the dank smell of mold in the air, the dirty, clouded windows on the wall to her right – they were all pieces of information she assimilated into a coherent picture.

She brushed off the fuzziness in her head as the door clicked open and the woman walked toward her, and Bobbi drew into herself, letting her agent persona take hold, letting the Mockingbird come to the surface. She needed to be strong enough to get through this, and that meant denying her emotions as she'd had so much practice doing in her many years as a SHIELD agent.

"You know why you're here, but I want to hear you say it," Kara said with a bite to her tone. Mockingbird had to look up to meet her gaze, but that wasn't going to be a problem.

"Sure," she said congenially. "I'm here because you're a twisted _psychopath_, and once-"

Her sardonic speech was cut off with a slap to the face that she hadn't seen coming, but rolled with anyway. She grunted softly, playing up the weakness. If Kara didn't know her anymore, she wouldn't know the Mockingbird's methods. Not her weaknesses, nor her strengths. It would be easy to appear helpless.

"Wrong answer," Kara said, sounding a bit like a petulant child.

Ward walked through the open door, his eyes on the dark-haired woman between them. "You shouldn't waste your energy, baby. We'll stay here as long as it takes."

The Mockingbird had a strong urge to roll her eyes.

"We'll get her to admit what she did to you."

So they did know Bobbi had, in effect, sold Kara out. Shit.

She had hoped Kara and herself would have a chance to sit down, to talk, or even, perhaps, _never_ bring up the subject of Whitehall or HYDRA between them.

But Ward had found out, somehow, and he wasn't going to give up whatever scheme he had concocted to get her to apologize. She'd heard plenty of things about Grant Ward, all of them bad, and knew the man wasn't to be underestimate. But neither was she. And the call she'd made hadn't been out of any spite for the woman now standing in front of her, the woman who had been her friend once upon a time.

No, the call had been made because it was her job. And because making it meant she wouldn't need to disclose other, more important information. Yes, Kara had been caught in the crossfire, but it wasn't Mockingbird's fault that the agent had been at the safe house.

She had nothing to apologize for.

He rolled over a metal cart with a leather pouch on it, with a sigh that made it sound as though she had disappointed him, and Mockingbird wanted to roll her eyes again, settling for glancing to the windows on the wall, then back to his face.

"Sunil Bakshi gave up some surprising information when we were finding closure with _him_," the man said as he stripped off his jacket. _Getting down and dirty_, Mockingbird thought scornfully, though she saved her words. 'Finding closure with him' meant that they were finding closure with her, which did not sound like an appealing prospect. Bakshi had ended up brainwashed because he was an asset, but Bobbi? She wasn't needed by Ward or Kara for anything. She would most likely be killed after they tried to get an apology out of her.

"He said you knowingly handed Agent Kara Palamas over to HYDRA. That you are the reason she suffered months of torture and mind control at the hands of her enemy. You are here to confess that truth, to give Kara the closure she needs to move on."

The Mockingbird stayed resolutely silent as he checked the thick shackles that held her arms to the table. He was putting on a show, and she knew it. _Confess_, as if she were a criminal, and she had not been saving her allies in the process, as if she really had _knowingly_ handed a friend over to HYDRA.

A friend who was looking at her in disdain, with no recollection of their previous friendship. Mockingbird remembered what Agent Simmons had reported – that Agent Palamas' mind was entirely free of mental manipulation, that she was only under the influence of her own free will. And Grant Ward's outside influence, but the point still stood – Kara Palamas was a different person than she had been.

She had been the first person ever to break free from the Faustus method, but at what price? The person Kara had been no longer existed, was lost to the throes of time, and had been replaced by a cold, unrecognizable woman who's allegiances had not been shattered, but warped and sown and reaped by a madman.

"To heal, the way I've healed," he finished, and Mockingbird was amused by his pretentiousness. Though, he was a psychopath, and one of the characteristic traits of a psychopath is that they don't see anything wrong with themselves. Only others.

Which, apparently, included her. Joy.

"Good luck with that," she said, speaking for the first time since she had woken up. In any circumstances other than the one she was in, Mockingbird would have done anything to help Kara heal. Unfortunately, she appeared to be twisted beyond anyone's reach, especially Grant Ward's. He didn't want to help her _heal_, at least not in a normal way.

"It's not luck that's gonna help us," he said, unrolling the leather pouch.

The Mockingbird looked over at the man, knowing from experience with melodramatic villains that some sort of torture instruments would be held within.

"Kara tells me you don't like needles," he said, pulling a thin silver rod from the brown leather, twisting it between his fingers in the low light so it glinted as it moved.

Of course she had. The _tiniest_ sliver of information she had let slip, over a week earlier, and it had stuck with the woman. Luckily it wasn't one of her worst fears, it was more of a discomfort, the dislike of needles. Seeing their sharp points sink into skin, it made her uneasy, but that was the extent of it, beyond the obvious pain they could cause if applied correctly, of course.

Still, Mockingbird kept her gaze hard and her breathing steady, her limbs loose and her heart rate down. She'd been held hostage before, and she had always managed to escape before she was broken. Besides, she needed to get back to SHIELD. Who knew what was going on with Coulson, Gonzales, and the Inhumans?

* * *

After checking Vault C, where Agent 33 had been held and finding a dead guard and no sign of the woman in question, Hunter and Fitz jogged up the stairs to Coulson's office. They were just in time to hear the three occupants discussing the plane that had been commandeered by one of the Inhumans.

"Then mark that down as the second time that SHIELD got played today," Hunter said, marching into the room.

"We figured out what happened to Agent Morse," Fitz supplied, "She left on a Quinjet with…" he looked hesitantly over at Agent May, but pointed her out, "you."

Hunter saw Coulson and May exchange bemused looks, but they didn't have time for arguing. Luckily, Fitz was already pulling up the footage from the base he and Hunter had been examining. It played to show the two women walking down the hallway, and Fitz paused it at a moment where they wouldn't be able to doubt who was there.

The Englishman looked over at May, and her face was deadly. He felt glad he was not on the receiving end of _that_ temper.

"I didn't leave with Bobbi, that's-"

"Agent 33," Coulson cut in with a nod.

Fitz jumped in with what had happened. "She killed her guard, stashed him under a blanket in Vault C, then boarded a Quinjet posing as May."

"But _why_?" Simmons asked, looking around, her eyes bright, looking almost ready to flood over with tears. "I don't understand."

Hunter knew that his ex-wife and the young scientist had bonded over their escape from HYDRA, and more likely than not science as well (Bobbi was always the smart one). With all that had happened in the last few hours, he could empathize with her feeling of helplessness. But he was going to do something. No more waiting around for procedures or rules.

He was going to do whatever it took to get Bobbi back, safe and unharmed. Oh _why_ had he been avoiding her.

Instead of losing himself in thoughts of what could have been, Hunter jumped into the conversation.

"The Quinjet's transponder went dark outside Aranda de Duero in Spain," he said, looking Coulson eye-to-eye. He might have had some reservations about SHIELD, and about the way things were run, but that was the past. He had managed to trust them, and they were the only ones he could depend on to want to save Bobbi as much as he did. "I'm gonna need a pilot."

"With pleasure," May said darkly, stepping forward to go almost before he'd realized her acceptance. He nodded and led the way from the office.

The two of them went to the lockers, gathering tactical gear while Coulson rounded up a team of agent who were still available.

Hunter strapped on his bulletproof vest in silence, and went through the familiar motions of checking the gun he slid into a holster on his hip and the knife he slid into a pocket, just in case things got up close and personal.

He met with May at the weapons room, grabbing a gun for himself as she slid two more handguns into holsters on her thighs, and they headed off to meet with Coulson as they walked out.

"This reeks of Ward," he said as they turned the corner around the labs. "He left Agent 33 here for this very purpose."

Hunter had heard a lot about Ward from the others on base. He'd also heard about assholes Bobbi had worked with. What he hadn't heard were any stories about Ward from Bobbi.

"But why take Bob?" he voiced out loud. "Did she have history with him?" Maybe Coulson would know more about it than Hunter himself. If they could get any more information about where Ward could be or what his plans were…

"Not that I know of," Coulson replied. "But Ward's logic is rarely logical. There's a piece we don't understand yet."

_That_ was an understatement. As far as anyone knew, Ward and Agent 33 had no reason to go after Bobbi, no reason at all. Had Bobbi been hiding something else? Was Ward trying to fill some sort of personal vendetta – a sort of "You tried to kill me, so I'll kidnap one of you" mentality. Of course, the man _was_ a psychopath. Did he really have any sort of motivation for _anything_ he did beside the twisted thoughts that ran through his head?

"There's a piece that _Ward_ doesn't understand yet," May said, sounding more cheery than Hunter had ever heard her sound. Which, in all honesty was pretty frightening. She even had a small smile on her face. "When I find him, I'm going to kill him."

Hunter was so glad the older agent was on his team, and that she wasn't going to stop him when they found the two bastards who had taken Bobbi. He might not have been speaking to Bobbi, but if he was honest with himself, he still loved her, and he would protect her, even if she insisted she needed nothing of the sort.

"Glad we're on the same page."

* * *

**Warning for torture scene**

Ward didn't start out with the rough stuff. Of course, torture never did. You had to break your victim slowly, over long hours, until you dealt the final blow and shattered their resolve.

He drew clear liquid from two tiny bottles into a syringe, and slid the small needle into one of the veins on the back of Mockingbird's right hand. The mixture, whatever it was, felt ice-cold, and a feeling of numbness spread from the site where he had injected it. Her whole forearm felt limp, but tense, frozen and unable to move.

So, a paralytic. But what had been in the other bottle?

She found out as he removed three longer needles from the pouch beside him, then lifted her ring finger and slid he first needle in. There was no jerking reflex because of the paralytic, and no pain because of some sort of anesthetic.

Instead of the pain, a steady and intense pressure drilled under her fingernail until came into contact with bone and stopped suddenly.

Mockingbird didn't take her eyes off of Ward's face, where she had resolutely fixed her gaze. He lifted the second needle, not meeting her stare, and slid it slowly but surely into the meat of her middle finger.

"Any agent worth their salt," he said as the second needle slid home, "adjusts to pain, can push it away. So, I took a different approach."

He picked up the two bottles full of clear liquid and held them up in front of the Mockingbird's face. "A paralytic, combined with an anesthetic."

She waited for him to get on with it.

"You can't fight what's happening," he picked up the third and final needle, "Nor can you feel the pain," he spun it between his fingers and the Mockingbird let her eyes drift into focus on the man, not the instrument he was holding, "Not yet."

He held her index finger with his left hand and twirled the needle with his right before quickly sliding the needle into her flesh. It was quick enough to draw her attention away from his face and down to her bloodied, numb fingers. Her gut roiled silently and she took a shuddering, silent breath, blinking slowly as she brought her gaze back to his own.

"Crazy, huh?" he said with a disgustingly smug smile, and put his hands on his hips, surveying his handiwork.

"Now, in a little while the drug will- turn off."

_Wear off_, said the biologist inside her, and she was grateful for the distraction his grammatical slip-up gave her. She took a deep, steadying breath, letting her shoulders rise and fall with the expansion of her ribcage, the tissue beneath expanding and contracting as it took in oxygen and released carbon dioxide.

"Everything you're feeling will flood in all at once."

"It's how I felt after the mind control was removed," Kara whispered, her eyes narrowing. "I remembered every terrible thing they did to me."

Ward was nodding along with her, "Now, we can avoid all that pain if you cooperate," he gestured to her restrained hands. "Admit your sins."

He sat back, obviously waiting for her to speak. But the Mockingbird had had enough. They might be a psychopathic duo, but they had no right to insinuate that she had turned her friend in on purpose, nor that she had done anything other than what she needed to in order to finish her work for SHIELD.

"What happened to you was a tragedy," she started.

"Not good enough."

"I had to make a choice inside HYDRA," she continued, sure that they wouldn't buy her "excuses" but determined to give them the full story anyway, "protect my cover by giving them a SHIELD safe house that _might_ be occupied, or blow my cover and lose intel that I knew for a _fact_ would get two dozen SHIELD agents killed."

"So you did sell me out."

Being a SHIELD agent was a tough job. Bobbi had taken it because she could protect the people she cared about, and could help protect others when the time came. Both of the people in front of her had once held the same position, had fought for their comrades, and had sworn to be humanity's defense against both common and uncommon threats.

"I'm sorry you were in that safe house," she said, feeling a rush of anger flood through her, "but I did the right thing. The lives of the many outweigh the life of one. You- you swore to the same ideal when you signed to SHIELD."

The two of them stood there, staring at her. There was obviously no getting through to Kara, and Ward was just as bad if not worse, and Bobbi mourned deep down the loss she was seeing the result of before her. She had made the right call, she knew it. But they couldn't see her understanding, couldn't believe that she was telling the truth even though she was giving them nothing but. They were blinded by brainwashing and personal suffering, and nothing was going to reach them.

"That's your apology?" Ward asked, disbelieving, after a moment of silence.

Mockingbird scoffed internally and simply stared at the man in front of her for a moment. Of course it wasn't an _apology_. She wasn't saying sorry for keeping people alive.

"Oh, I'll go one better," she whispered, cocking her head to the side. "If I _ever_ apologize or beg for mercy while you torture me, know that I don't mean a word of it – not a word. I made a hard call. But I'd make the same one again right now."

Kara took a step forward in anger, but Ward stood, holding her back. "Not yet, baby," he murmured, bringing a hand up to her cheek even as her glare met the Mockingbird's. "Not yet. She's obviously not sorry for any of it, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't make her feel the same pain before ending her."

The woman nodded slowly, her gaze shifting to Ward's face and instantly softening to a doting, placid look that made Mockingbird throw up a little in her throat. The control he held over her was so plain, and yet Kara couldn't see it.

The pair walked a few paces away from the table where Bobbi was sitting, and they stopped, talking together, Kara giggling every so often. Pity, she'd been hoping to get them out room. The metal holding her was strong, but it was metal against aged, damp wood.

Mockingbird was sure she could pull herself free if she was given enough time to work the shackles loose, but they would notice something was up if she strained while they were in the room, before the effects of the anesthetic even wore off. She would have to bide her time.

* * *

Clint was pacing back and forth. Still.

The only sign of Natasha's agitation was the death glare she was sending at the wall in front of her and the middle finger of her right hand tapping a rhythm on her thigh. She was slowly running out of patience.

She had hacked the Playground easily, since she knew Fury's style. She had found an updated mission log, with the details of Bobbi's scouting mission, alongside another mission log that wasn't complete. She had also found footage of Bobbi leaving the base alongside Melinda May, the Cavalry.

Natasha herself hadn't had much personal interaction with the elder agent outside of sparring at the Hub or Triskelion when their schedules coincided (usually set up by either Coulson or Clint as a form of entertainment), but she knew the woman was a good agent. She did what needed to be done, and her skills were matched so closely with Natasha's own at hand-to-hand combat that any session they'd had together, instead of being an easy win, had more or less ended in a tie.

She'd had even less contact with Melinda after she'd gained her nickname of "Cavalry" in Bahrain and retired from field work. Coulson, Natasha's handler at the time (and up until his "death" at Loki's hand), had shared the little information he'd been authorized to about Bahrain. It had reminded Natasha of her own story and she'd planned on taking the woman out to drinks sometime to "wash the sorrows away" until Fury had called her in to babysit SHIELD's token playboy, Stark.

Natasha had to admit, she'd been glad to discover Melinda had been on Coulson's team (after the shock of the man's supposed resurrection), and not in the office when HYDRA had struck. Even if she could have done some good work if she had stayed. From what the reports had told her about Coulson's gift of life, as well as Fury's first-hand answers when she confronted him about it, he had needed his best friend back.

Melinda was a good agent. So, what had happened to Bobbi?

It had been almost a day since Bobbi's disappearance, and the only records of her Quinjet had been that it went off-grid in Spain, which was common SHIELD practice in foreign airspace. She would have taken a Quinjet of her own to Spain, had she been able to access one, but Stark was repairing the one they had taken to Sokovia, and Fury was using the others to construct the new Avengers base. Also, Natasha would rather the man with the eyepatch _not_ know she knew about Coulson.

(That argument, however, was slowly losing any sort of control it might have had on her actions.)

So Natasha had called Maria, cursing the fact that it was so easy to go through phones in their line of work, to get in contact with Coulson and find out what he knew. But Maria had not gotten back to her with any information, and Natasha was ready to snap.

Clint spun around from the end of the room, and Natasha's concentration was broken. She looked to the clock, and noted it had been two hours since Hill had told her it would be "half an hour at most".

Well, that was that.

"Grab your bow, we're heading out," she said, standing and sliding her phone into her pocket. Time to take matters into her own hands.

Clint looked up, startled. "I thought we were waiting for your contact to make contact."

"My contact was Hill," Natasha said shortly, grabbing two handguns and her small duffel containing her Widow's Bites and tactical gear.

"Hill?" Clint blustered, gaping at her. "I thought you were getting information about Bobbi!"

"I was."

"How would Hill know about Bobs? _Where_ would she be getting her information about Bobbi?"

"I'll tell you on the way."

There was no time for them to argue. They needed to be in the air two hours ago, and if Maria wasn't answering her calls… Well, Natasha knew how to steal a plane.

"But where are we going?" he asked. "Do you know where Bobbi is? What have you been hiding from me, Nat?"

He was going to hate her for it, but she had known that the moment she had learned the secret. Of course, he would hate Coulson more. So she was safe from his rage for a little while, she was sure.

"I'll tell you on the way. Now get your things while I grab us a plane."

"You're just going to go grab a plane? Natasha! Come back here!"

"Wheels up in twenty," she said coolly, before closing the door and storming out. Whoever had taken Bobbi would _not_ be recognizable when she was done with them.

* * *

Bobbi could feel when the painkillers wore off. It happened slowly, starting with just a tingle of sensation, then all at once with three stabbing pains in three fingers on her right hand, each branching into it's own network of throbbing and pulsing. She knew the couple had heard her sudden intake of breath when they looked over at her and Kara looked to Ward, waiting for his nod before approaching the table.

Mockingbird stared resolutely ahead, despite the new waves of pain her nerves were sending from the delicate tips of her fingers and the tissue underneath them that had been cut through. She clenched her jaw and breathed calmly, lowering her heart rate as much as she could.

Kara smiled as she looked into Bobbi's eyes. "She feels it," the woman said with a delighted smile, practically skipping back to Ward.

Ward studied the Mockingbird's face, then nodded to the woman in front of him.

"Once she understands your pain, we can all move past this unpleasantness."

Bobbi couldn't keep her composure at that statement. She pulled her arms back as she sighed, feeling the slightest amount of give in her restraints. Whenever the two of them had shared a kiss she had gently worked the metal screws through the aged wood. It had succeeded, to an extent, and she knew with a bit more time it would be simple for her to escape.

"Don't you see what's happening?" she asked, hearing the break in her own voice.

She kept going, stronger. "He's molding you, the way Bakshi molded you. The circle never ends."

One brainwashed victim, tossed between captors. She didn't have much hope for the woman in front of her, but while she was still captured there was no use giving up.

"You left her for dead," Ward shot at her.

Bobbi had been more intent on getting her team out of the collapsed temple. How _dare_ he say she'd made the wrong call again? It was plain that Grant Ward knew nothing about SHIELD, regardless of how high a level he'd achieved before revealing his status as HYDRA.

"I'm helping her heal," _lies,_ "from wounds _you _inflicted."

"Then take her to Hawaii," Mockingbird threw back, shaking her head. "Do you think it will end with me? There's always someone else to blame."

She'd learned it from experience – it was easy to find someone to hate. There was always one more step to take, one more person to accuse of wrongdoing. Faults were a part of being human, and it wasn't hard to find the faults of others if you were looking for them.

"You're wrong."

Mockingbird had expected the response, but that didn't make it any more welcome.

"I bet he started you off easy – a symbolic target, the doctor who made your mask?"

She saw how they looked into each other's eyes. There was no convincing her, was there? But she was the Mockingbird, and so she would do what she did best.

Irritate the crap out of her target.

"I bet Ward started off easy too."

What she hadn't expected was the nod Ward gave to Kara, or the smiles that spread across their faces.

"You're right," Kara said, shifting slightly, looking down. "It was his dog."

A dog.

Well, the emotional moment gave her a chance to pull at the cuffs again, an opportunity she took gladly.

"Garrett made him kill his dog."

Mockingbird settled the cuffs back onto the table gently as Kara turned to face her.

"I know what you're doing, Agent Morse," she said, walking forward. "And it's not going to work – Grant's already told me everything."

Sure.

"_Everything_," Kara continued. "About his abusive family, about John Garrett, about having to kill Victoria Hand."

Mockingbird looked over Kara's shoulder at the man in question, and had to admit that he had the wounded puppy dog look down to a tee.

"But in the end," Kara said, and Mockingbird imagined dramatic music playing in her head, the sort that came at the end of action movies, when the battle was won and the protagonist had won. "He overcame his family, and the pain Garrett put him through. He remade himself."

Into a twisted psychopath.

Kara looked back over her shoulder, her gaze meeting up with Ward's. "It's why I love him. And why, no matter what he does, I will always stand with Ward."

Bobbi raised an internal eyebrow at the choice of the man's surname, especially after addressing him as "Grant" since they had brought her in, but gazed steadily back into the woman's dark brown eyes until she nodded, stood up straight with a smug grin painted across her face, and walked back over to Ward.

And kissed him long and hard, for a good long while. Which gave Mockingbird another chance to pull at her shackles.

"Let's take a break from all this," Ward suggested when they finally did separate. "We'll let her feel it, and we can have some fun."

"I'd like that," Kara said, looking up through her lashes at Ward.

They hurried out of the room, only sending a short glance back to their prisoner, who was watching the door they had left through with amusement. She usually annoyed her targets into distraction by working them into a fit of rage or frustration, most wanting to either rip her head off or shag her (she thought of Hunter). Never before had her taunting resulted in her captors wanting to shag each other though.

Well, there was a first time for everything.

Blinking away the tears in her eyes and the sharp stabs of pain shooting up her arm at each tiny movement, the Mockingbird pulled at her bonds, steadily working the screws out of the wood they were confined to, loosening them with each tug.

* * *

**My personal headcanon is that Natasha really started digging into SHIELD's records after Fury gave her the mission to get info off the Lemurian Star, but she didn't discover Coulson was alive until she made all the files public and either saw footage of him in a SHIELD base, or saw his name mentioned in a report and followed that up.**

**This chapter was a bit later than I wanted it to be, but I had a lot of trouble writing the torture scene (I had to keep pausing to look at something happy), and Natasha's characterization. A lot of you wanted her/expected her to go and rescue Bobbi along with Hunter and May, so even though that wasn't in my original plan, I threw it in here. :) But there's a special twist I'll throw in next chapter...**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter - I didn't read through the whole thing again, as I need to go do a modern D&amp;D-style roleplay with some friends and wanted this out before midnight, but any concerns/comments you leave will be noted! I had planned on getting through at least part of episode 22 here, but words happened and this is the new longest chapter - so we're probably looking at 4 chapters for this last little bit. Then, on to Age of Ultron!**

**Thank you all for reading, and for your support! Leave a review if you have something to say - anything at all - and I'll reply when I post the next chapter (which should be next Tuesday).**

**To Guest, Ghost Reader, and StefQ - thank you so much for your kind words! **

**Much love! And happy belated Geek Pride Day! (May 25th)**

**~Dancer**


	12. 2x21 (SOS Part 3)

**Contains scenes from episode 2x21 - "SOS". Also includes more profanity than usual and minor canon torture scenes (though not as graphic as last chapter).**

* * *

"Nat, why Spain? What could Bobbi _possibly_ be doing in Spain?"

"No idea," she said coldly, gazed fixed stonily ahead of them at the rapidly-darkening sky.

He frowned. Natasha hadn't said a word to him since he woke up, save from practically ordering him to leave and informing him they were stealing a plane.

They hadn't actually ended up stealing a plane, but had "borrowed" it from one of Fury's hideaways within walking distance. They had been in the air within half an hour, and then Natasha had checked her phone and typed in coordinates that were placed in the middle of Spain. He knew that Bobbi had always wanted to live there, had talked about it since their mission in Barcelona, but he knew her too well – there was no way she could settle down like that.

He wished he knew why they were going where they were though, and wished even more Natasha would just say _something_ to him about it. She'd been hiding secrets all the time he'd known her, but something about these particular withholdings of the truth unsettled him.

Most likely because it had something to do with a woman he considered to be a little sister, even if she was an inch taller than him (not counting heels).

And it wasn't as if he had believed Nat when she made up some lie about Bobbi likely being in Sokovia the night before. If Bobbi had really wanted to help, she would have been on the first plane there when she heard about the trouble, not waiting around for shit to hit the fan. But he _had_ been exhausted, and he knew Nat would be doing her own research and worrying in his absence, even if she didn't let on to it.

They reached 30,000 feet and she turned off the coms and slid forward in her chair, facing him.

"Ready to talk?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest and removing his headset.

"Coulson's alive."

His mind blanked, thoughts stuttering to a halt as he blinked, stunned.

"What?"

"He's alive," she repeats, green eyes staring deeply, truthfully, into his own.

Coulson was dead. Clint had seen the body, gone to the funeral. He had mourned him in the aftermath of the Battle of New York. He'd beaten himself up about it – stupid enough to get caught and compromised, unable to save one of the only people in the world he cared for.

He'd gone to the farm, had hung out with Bobbi for a couple of weeks (all thanks to Maria Hill for giving her a fortnight of a break in between missions).

In the three years since it happened he had _moved on_.

"You're joking."

She gave him a scathing, unamused look that clearly said "why would I joke about this."

"He's _dead_, Nat," he says, his voice breaking before he covered it with a cough.

Coulson, the man who'd brought him in all those years ago. Who'd managed to shape him into a person he was proud of, who had supported him in his decision to spare Natasha and have her join SHIELD. Phil Coulson, the man with a ridiculous Captain America obsession and who loved throwing out one-liners, even in the worst situations.

The man who had been stabbed through the hearts with the staff they'd gone to retrieve from Ultron, that had once contained the Mind Gem, or whatever Thor called it, that was currently a part of the Vision.

He clenched his fists to keep them from shaking and, feeling the need to hit something, stood up to leave the cockpit.

"Clint-"

His gaze was drawn back to hers and he saw the truth in her eyes again, tinged with bitter sadness and regret. He sighed and shook his head, then sat down again, dropping himself into the co-pilot's seat.

"How?" he asked, a knot forming in his chest. If Coulson was alive, and if Fury had anything to do with it… If Nat was leading up to why Bobbi was missing and why they were leaving for Spain…

"It's a very long story," she said, sending him an assessing look. "And I'm sorry for keeping it a secret for so long."

Clint eyed her for a moment, then shrugged, forcing himself to relax and not shout as he wanted to.

"My whole life's a secret, it's not like I can talk. It's probably Fury's fault, yeah?"

She nodded.

"That son of a bitch. Well, fill me in on what he's done this time."

Natasha's lips turned up in a smirk. "Well, it started with this thing that Fury calls "Project TAHITI"…"

* * *

The flight to Spain had been uncomfortably silent for most of it. Hunter had dared to ask May about Ward, as he hadn't actually gotten much information on the man besides he was a skilled specialist who had been working undercover for HYDRA, and that he was an absolute psychopath, but the conversation was mainly one-sided; May gave him the information he needed and then resumed a stony silence.

So he'd watched their scanner continually search for Bobbi's phone, even if each second without a positive was more painful than the last.

They found the site where the transponder had gone offline and saw the Quinjet in a small clearing. They landed close and approached with guns out, but as they entered the dark plane it was rather obvious it had been deserted.

_Shit_, Hunter thought darkly as he lit the inside of the jet with his flashlight. Who knew where Bobbi could be except _somewhere_ in Spain? She had already been with 33 and Ward for a number of hours, and who knew what they had kidnapped her for.

"At least they didn't crash," May said, following him inside.

_Looking on the bright side, of course, _he thought scornfully, not voicing the thought out loud.

"Maybe they both just needed a holiday," he said, trying to keep calm. "Bobbi always liked Spain. Probably sitting on a beach, telling 33 what a lousy husband I was. I did have my faults."

"Hunter," May said, drawing his attention to some bullet holes in the screen hung on the wall.

His stomach sunk, but at the same time he felt a surge of admiration for the blonde he'd been resolutely avoiding for three plus weeks.

"That's my Bob," he said, nodding at the holes. "Never goes down without a fight."

But that raised the question – why _did_ she have to fight? And had she gone down? He had to assume so, since they hadn't been able to find hide nor hair of her.

"What the hell did Ward want with her?" he asked out loud.

"No idea," May said with a shake of her head. "But if anyone can handle him, it's Bobbi."

Hunter nodded solemnly. "Can't argue with you there. She's a fiery one. And all the men seem to underestimate her."

He stared at the broken screen for a few more moments, then shook his head. "Anyway, it looks clear. They've obviously left. Any idea where they could have taken her?"

May shook her head. "We'll do a fly-by, scan for HYDRA frequencies. Ward said he's cut ties, but he's lied in the past and I don't want to take any chances, even with List and Strucker out of the picture."

"Sounds like a plan," he said, nodding and following her out as they headed back to the Quinjet. He looked out over the rapidly darkening, vacant landscape, and sent a prayer to all the deities he didn't believe in that they would find Bobbi safe.

* * *

Mockingbird pulled up on her shackles, feeling the bolts loosen even more as she did. Just a few more tugs and she would be able to slip her hands out…

She bit back a scream as the needles dug deeper into the sensitive tips of her fingers when she pulled up. It had taken her two, maybe three hours to get to the point she had. If she had any luck, her captors had fallen asleep after their shag and would leave her alone for the rest of the night.

Unfortunately, luck wasn't on her side. Ward showed up at the door and she quickly lowered her arms, cutting off her pained groans at the same time. She didn't need to show weakness to him, especially not when he walked with that spring in his step than reminded her of how Hunter would walk around after a night of fun.

She bit back a scornful remark.

"Gonna be a long night," Ward said, spinning the canteen he held. Mockingbird kept her eyes down, a steely glare fixed at the ground behind him.

"Knew you'd be tough," he said as he peered down at her face. "Coulson's got a good eye for talent. Though he's a little blind when it comes to spies in his own house."

Mockingbird almost rolled her eyes at that. Of course Kara would have told him about that. What neither of them understood however, was just how much she was determined to get both sides to work together.

"You know, you and I are a lot alike," he said casually, and her eyes flickered up to his face. "Both of us living one life on the outside. But who we _really _are – we keep that buried deep inside. Where no one can find it."

She closed her eyes, shaking her head. He was again trying to make her guilty for something she hadn't done wrong, and it still wasn't going to work. Especially not when he'd done the exact same thing on a much larger scale. At least _she_ hadn't been working against them. Everything Bobbi had done had been for the good of SHIELD.

"That's why Coulson never saw us coming," he continued, pulling out another needle and holding it in front of her face. "That's why you never saw me coming."

Bobbi's empty stomach turned at the sight of the thin silver rod, and forced herself to look away from it, focusing on his eyes instead.

"Where's Kara?" she gritted out, feeling her composure start to slip, acutely aware of the sweat beading on her face and the strain in her voice.

"Sleeping," he said, and she wished he had just stayed with her. A few more minutes of privacy… Though, if she was honest, a good yank would probably rip the cuffs out of the table as it was. She supposed she'd have to test that theory soon. Mockingbird didn't need another needle shoved up one of her fingers, especially on her dominant hand.

"Oh, but don't worry," the man continued with a look back at the leather pouch that held the needles. "I could go on all night."

He looked back at Mockingbird, and held her gaze with his own. "I need you to help me help her," he said, his voice hardening. "Kara needs closure. Admit that you betrayed her, and we can end this." Ward shook his head, gesturing to her bonds.

Mockingbird let out the scoff she'd been holding back for a while at that. He managed to bring _everything _back to Kara. The man was obsessed. Of course, that was just another proof of his psychopathic tendencies.

"You're such a hypocrite," she said, feeling her nerves on fire and hoping he would mistake her anticipation for pain, at least for as long as possible. "You say I betrayed _her?_ You betrayed your entire team. How many people that trusted you have died?"

She felt a stab of pride at the darkening of his gaze and the furrowing of his brow. Angry was good. Angry made mistakes. Mockingbird was ready to shine.

"See, I've seen the real Grant Ward, the one buried deep inside."

She paused long enough to give him a moment to think, then threw the final punch, shoving the truth in his face in a way she knew would get to him. "He's a coward who always has an excuse or someone else to blame."

"You don't know me!" he growled, leaning in closer.

_That's it,_ she thought, grinning on the inside.

"Sure I do," she said, leaning forward herself, then yanking the screws holding her cuffs down out of the table so she was free.

Before he knew what was happening Mockingbird had grabbed his head and forced it down into the table. She pulled the needles from her fingers like tearing a bandage off of a particularly gruesome wound and stabbed them in his neck, unfortunately missing his jugular vein by the looks of it. He pulled them out quickly and stood up, readying himself to punch, but she'd already used the table as leverage to send a two-footed kick to his sternum that sent him rolling backward.

She jumped over the table and stepped forward, throwing a punch and a kick, both of which he blocked, then delivering another kick to his abdomen, sending him out into the hallway. Mockingbird sent a few punches to his head, though only one connected, and he grabbed her fist, though she used his grip to pull aside his block and deliver a left hook to his face.

Pushing Ward in front of her she slammed his back into the wall, though she was almost immediately turned around so he could do the same to her. He kneed her in the stomach and sent a punch at her face that she rolled with to drop down to the floor. She used her position to send his leg back as he went to kick her, and held off a punch, jumping back up to her feet and sending a punch to his gut, another to his face.

He dodged and used her momentum to whip her backward, sending her through a door that landed heavily on something in the room beyond.

Thankful for not having to fall all the way to the floor, even if the stop was jarring, Mockingbird scampered off the door and around to her left, avoiding a kick to her sternum and setting herself back up on her feet.

The next punch missed, but her second made contact and she used his stumble to grab the pipe above her head and send another kick at him that sent him falling back through a window into the hallway again.

Clint had once scolded her for using the move so much when she was fighting, but she always believed in using the surrounding area to one's advantage in a fight. And he couldn't deny that it was effective.

Mockingbird sprang through the window and sent a kick at him, but he used the same leverage from the floor she had to push her back and grabbed her throat. There was a bang from her left, and Bobbi knew that Kara had joined the fight.

She hit Ward's forehead with her own, sending him back, and heard a shot ricochet behind her, telling her Kara had a gun. Mockingbird forced Ward to the side and kicked Kara back, then elbowed Ward in the face.

Her dive toward Kara went a bit far as Ward jumped on her at the same time. He punched her in the face, but she leaned back, getting up to block his left arm coming toward her face and sent a palm to his nose. There was a satisfying crunch as the bone broke.

Turning around to face Kara, Mockingbird secured the woman's right arm in a lock, then sent a flurry of punches at her abdomen. Ward grabbed her hair and shoulder, then pulled her back. She felt suspended in midair for one breathtaking moment, then his fist collided squarely with her face and she spun, only just catching herself on the ground.

The time she took to catch her breath had been a moment too long and Ward came into the room, sending a foot down at her leg. She felt the bone splinter as her femur broke in two, and screamed as she hadn't since they had captured her at the agonizing pain.

Bobbi tried to gasp for air, but she choked on the oxygen entering her lungs as the fire blazed through her leg, rendering her speechless. She had heard that having that particular bone broken was a pain second only to childbirth, but even though she'd never been pregnant it was plain that the throbbing agony was worse than any single injury she'd sustained while in the field.

"Is there anything you'd like to say to Kara?" Ward asked from above her, his voice raised and angry.

The distraction gave her enough clarity to focus on speaking. There were quite a lot of things she would like to say to Ward, but if he wanted her to speak to Kara…

"Yeah," she breathed, feeling a giddy smile come to her face as fresh endorphins suffused her brain, lessening the feeling of knives ripping her leg apart from the inside out. "I'd do it all again."

Ward seemed to have been expecting the answer, and he nodded jerkily, handing Kara the gun he must have retrieved from the hall. The woman took it without hesitation and leveled it at Bobbi's forehead, her eyes shadowed in the dimly lit room.

Bobbi was taken aback for a moment, but pulled herself together. She'd been in worse situations, even if she was struggling to think of any. At least it was only herself. Hunter was probably out searching for her, despite his silent treatment, and Clint was, hopefully, still in New York at Avengers Tower, still recovering from Sokovia with Natasha.

Mockingbird glared at the woman standing above her. Even at her low vantage point, her stare didn't waver, and when the gun had been pointed at her a few seconds too long, she shook her head, knowing the woman didn't have it in her, for whatever reason.

"This isn't right," Kara said, breathing heavily and frowning. She lowered the gun to her side. "I'm not feeling it."

_YOU'RE NOT FEELING IT?_ Bobbi wanted to scream, disbelieving. All the torture and pain, and they weren't going to kill her because they didn't feel like it? She'd thought the SHIELD grunts were incompetent.

"She doesn't care if she dies," Kara continued. "And she's not sorry."

Ward was silent as he approached Kara, his own gaze leveled down at Bobbi.

"It's alright, Baby," he said soothingly as he pulled the gun form her fingers. "I know what to do. Let's get her back to her room."

Bobbi switched her glare between the two psychopaths, and attempted to breathe through the pain, even as they lifted her up none-too-gently and Ward carried her down the hall, not taking care to keep his arms from bouncing as he carried her like a child.

She felt like smacking him, even if it meant he dropped her on the floor. At least then she would be saved the indignity of being carried as she was. Though, the alternative was being dragged along the floor – that was _not_ something she wanted to go through with a broken leg.

Mockingbird held her tongue.

* * *

Clint wasn't sure what to say when Natasha had finished telling him what she knew about Coulson's "rebirth" and the continued existence of SHIELD. She'd also informed him of Bobbi's continued work with the organization, including Fury's mission for her and Isabelle Hartley, a brief mention of her time undercover at HYDRA, and a short overview of the struggle between Coulson's SHIELD and Gonzales' SHIELD.

"You mean that whole time, all that classified shit Bobs was talking about, everything… It was all SHIELD?"

"It was," Natasha confirmed, and he sat back in his seat with a sigh, staring out at the tops of clouds.

"And she didn't tell me a thing."

"To be fair, the last time you worked with SHIELD proper you got a dose of mind-control from an alien prince," Natasha pointed out. "I can't blame her for keeping it to herself. You know how she is about hurting people."

"She won't do it if it's not necessary," Clint nodded, understanding. "I just wish she'd trusted me. I could have helped! Hell, I could have gone in and given Gonzales a talking to-"

"That would have ended well," Natasha scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Isn't that what big brothers do, though?" Clint asked, shifting into a more comfortable position. "Talk down all the guys who want to break their sisters' hearts?"

"You already threatened Hunter. More than once. And that was with castration, if I remember correctly."

"Hunter's different!" Clint complained. "At least he's an all-around good guy. He's just got a few rough edges."

"Especially when it comes to Bobbi."

"Especially when it comes to Bobbi," Clint agreed. "But opposites attract and all that. And they're good for each other."

He was silent for a moment, contemplating. "You think he's out here looking for her?"

"Do I need to answer that question for you?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

Clint just shook his head.

Silence fell for a few moments more before Clint broke it again.

"When I see Coulson I'm going to have some _strong_ words for him."

"Let's focus on Bobbi first, yeah?" Natasha said, checking the coordinates. "You'll have plenty of time to dress him down when we're finished with this. You still running the satellite check on her phone?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just wanted to make sure."

* * *

"A day ago I never wanted to talk to her again," Hunter mused, fussing with the settings on the satellite scan they had for Bobbi's phone. "Now she's all I can think about."

"Love's weird that way," May commented.

"Not sure it's love. More like a dance of desire, discomfort and unreliable feelings."

At least, he wasn't sure if it was love any more. It had most certainly been love once upon a time, but he couldn't help worrying that they would never make it back to that point – that he and Bobbi would be skirting around each other once they made it through this. He wasn't sure he could handle that.

There was a beeping noise as the satellite located Bobbi's phone, the words "SIM CARD LOCATED" flashing on the screen.

* * *

Beeping came from the scanner they'd had on Bobbi's phone, and Clint had grabbed his phone in a heartbeat, pressing the speed dial to call her, and tracing the call at the same time.

Natasha adjusted their flight path slightly to suit the new coordinates. It seemed Bobbi was close to where the Quinjet went dark, but in the city instead of a nature preserve outside it. She knew just the airstrip they could land.

"You know it's most certainly a trap," she stated, glancing over at Clint who was holding the phone in a near-death grip.

"And you know I don't care," he shot back, hoping the phone would connect.

* * *

"Hold on, Bobbi's phone's back in service," Hunter said, sharing a quick glance with May before staring back down at the tablet he was holding and tracing it back. "Shouldn't be too hard to trace this to a location."

"Could be a trap," May pointed out, as if he didn't know that already. The whole thing had been leading up to a trap. But Bobbi was gone and Hunter would be damned if he didn't go and get her back from the pair of psychopaths who had taken her.

"Been there, done that," he said emphatically. "Most of my marriage to Bobbi felt like a trap. But…" he had to admit it, "we did have our good times."

It was why he'd kept going back to her, even after they would fight, all the way up until the divorce.

"So, you up for this?"

"If it means finding Ward and putting a bullet in his head?" May asked with a smirk. "I'm all in."

Hunter chuckled. "Guess love is weird that way."

He dialed Bobbi's number and traced the call, knowing she wouldn't pick up, but still wishing she would.

* * *

Only seconds after Ward and Kara had finished securing her to the chair in front of the machine gun Ward showed her the phone she was holding – her phone – and turned it on so she could see it start up. He'd hardly started to set it down when the phone vibrated in his hand.

Kara looked up from where she had been checking Bobbi's restraints and Bobbi herself looked over to see Ward's creased brow.

"Clint?" he read off the screen, frowning. "Who's that?"

He looked over to Bobbi, but she still had the gag in her mouth, the red fabric growing damp between her teeth. She thanked her SO for instilling the practice of simple phone contacts into her when Bobbi was just a rookie. Mockingbird also wanted to both laugh in relief and grin in triumph. Ward might be good, but she knew he was no match for Hawkeye and Black Widow, and especially not Strike Team Delta.

She just shook her head, feeling her eyes positively sparkle. Neither of the assassins would be stupid enough to enter a hostile building without checking all of the threats were neutralized beforehand. They were level-headed and she knew they would both be safe regardless of whatever trap Ward was trying to set up.

Ward must have ended the call, because the phone stopped buzzing for a moment before it started back up again.

"Wow, two calls so soon," he commented, checking the screen again. "And, there's the cowboy. He must really miss his honneybunny," Ward mocked, waving the phone side to side, Lance's name on the caller ID.

If Mockingbird could have spat at him she would have.

"You think they'll come for you, hmm?" Ward asked, setting her phone down on the cart.

She knew they would. She did hope however, that Hunter and whoever was with him would be the second group to arrive. Hunter was _not_ one to think with his head instead of his heart, and she knew he would burst into any room with hardly a thought other than to ask himself if she was there.

Bobbi had always joked his bleeding heart on his sleeve would get him killed in action one day.

"Since you've shown no remorse for your sins against Kara," Ward said, walking behind her to where the gun stood, "and since you clearly have no regard for your own life," he turned on the gun with a low hum, activating the sensor she knew he would be placing on the door, "we're leaving you a little present."

He cocked the gun. Mockingbird closed her eyes and breathed through her nose to calm her heartbeat, knowing that getting emotional would not help her at all.

"First person through this door," Ward said, holding up the second part of the sensor, half of which he had already attached to the doorframe, "spoosh. Brains everywhere."

His fingers exploded outward in imitation of an explosion, and Mockingbird imagined breaking every single one of them. Twice.

Kara smiled from next to Bobbi and stood up to join him as he attached the sensor to the door.

"I wonder what you'll feel," Kara started, turning back to face Bobbi, "when you watch somebody else die because of what _you_ did."

"I know what we'll feel," Ward said, sharing a grin with his dear psychopathic lover. Mockingbird stared at him, unamused. She knew exactly what he was going to say, and felt like ripping the man's tongue out of his mouth.

He reached up and activated the sensor with a beep.

"Closure," he said with a grin, closing the door behind him.

Bobbi breathed in and out, calming her racing pulse, then tested her bonds, checking each side of the chair, knowing they had bolted it down to the floor. They had used chains, which kept her from breaking the chair by falling backward or sideways on it, but that gave her just a bit of leverage. All the better.

It was nice to know that Clint, Natasha, and Hunter were coming for her, but even though she'd been tied up by two trained SHIELD agents Mockingbird was quite sure she could manage to work her way out of the bondage. She was no Houdini, but she'd learned a few tricks in the past.

* * *

**So everything's coming together! *squee***

**Oh, and just in case anyone doesn't know, "Strike Team Delta" is what Clint and Natasha were called when they went on missions as partners. **

**And I'm sorry to everyone who might have wanted to read the whole reveal of Coulson/SHIELD to Clint, but it always sounded really cliche when I tried to write it out, and this chapter was already pretty dang long (4,700+ words). You _will_ be getting a nice little interaction between Clint &amp; Nat &amp; Coulson coming up in a few chapters though!**

**I planned for the finale to be 3-4 chapters. Lol. I guess that failed. This is the 3rd chapter and there will be at least two more (and probably 3)! :D **

**Sorry, also, about this getting up a day later than I anticipated. I had to rewrite the beginning twice because I didn't like it, and then there was the whole conversation about Coulson that ended up getting scrapped. Plus there was D&amp;D with some friends from school, and backstories to write... Also, I had to go to bed early because I had a job interview this morning! (I _finally_ got a summer job. And it's full-time and it pays really well and I start a week from next Monday. I'm so thankful!)**

**Thank you all as well, for giving so much support to this story! It just hit 50 followers AND 50 reviews last night, which is all thanks to you lovely readers! Virtual cookies for you: (::) (::) (::)**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please keep leaving reviews about what you've enjoyed/not enjoyed, and I'll try to be back with the next chapter on Tuesday!**

**Thanks one last time for reading and just being generally amazing! DFTBA!**

**~Dancer**


	13. 2x22 (SOS Part 4)

**Not the longest chapter, but it needed to stop where it did. Sorry in advance. **

**Contains scenes from episode 2x22 - "SOS".**

* * *

"I've traced Bobbi's signal to an abandoned warehouse about half a mile away," Hunter announced as May touched down, landing smoothly on the dark runway. "Shouldn't take too long to get there."

"Not at all," May said, standing up and attaching another gun to a holster at her side. "Suit up and we'll be out. Walker, Juarez, and Evans, you too. Ward's not going to come easy. I want each of us with an automatic, and at least two handguns just in case." The three other agents nodded.

They all pulled on bulletproof vests and checked their weapons and coms, readying themselves for the mission. Coulson had wanted most of their resources back at the Playground or on the Iliad in case the Inhumans came knocking, and even though May would have preferred to have more manpower when dealing with Ward and Agent 33, she'd take what she could get.

She kept an eye on Hunter as they disembarked the Quinjet, noting the nervous tic of his hand against his side and the set expression on his face. May knew what it meant to love someone, had felt the feeling before, and she had seen his glances at Bobbi over the past weeks. As much as he denied it, or refused to admit it, he still loved her.

Part of her had wanted to refuse to let Hunter on the mission at all, since he was so obviously compromised, but if she had done that she would have needed to admit that she herself was compromised from her interactions with both Ward as a lover and with 33 as her enemy, especially as the woman had mirrored her face for a number of months.

They were just heading down the runway, their way lit by distant streetlamps, when they caught sight of another Quinjet-sized plane with landing lights flashing, descending on their position.

"Fall back?" Evans asked, turning a questioning gaze to May.

She nodded silently and they dropped back the twenty or so feet to the Quinjet they had just left. May had also kept an eye on Bobbi during the last few weeks and she knew the woman had received and sent a number of phone calls. She was also rather sure of who the conversations had been held with as well. After all, Barton and Morse's fling had been the gossip of the office when word had gotten out.

Still, if she was wrong, she wouldn't want to endanger their rescue. HYDRA could still be out there, even if Strucker and List had been taken out, and she would not be taking chances. The Inhumans and Ward were enough. They didn't need another enemy on their tail.

* * *

"Looks like they're already here," Clint said, nodding down the runway to where their lights illuminated a Quinjet already parked.

"Who do you think Coulson sent?" Natasha asked, steering the plane so it came to a stop right next to the other.

"If he's got the Cavalry? She'd be the first on his list of people he trusted. But didn't you say he had another conflict he was dealing with?"

"Something in Eastern Asia," Natasha confirmed. "But I didn't look into those files much. I was more concerned with how their search for Bobbi was going. Is that all right with you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she stood and slid her Widow's Bites onto her wrists.

She caught his rolling eyes out of the corner of her own and smirked.

Clint grabbed his bow and quiver, shifting his shoulders to adjust its weight against his back.

"Ready to rock and roll?" he asked, bouncing from foot to foot.

"You know I am," she shot back with a wink. "Now shall we go hand these kidnappers their asses?"

"Let's," Clint said, a set look on his face.

They hopped out of their Quinjet, wary until they rounded the front of the other and saw the slim figure of Melinda May standing there, two guns pointed at their faces.

"Agent May," Natasha said with a nod.

"Barton, Romanoff."

May gave them each a nod, then spoke over her shoulder to the agents behind her.

"They're here to help," she said curtly. "Move out, as planned."

"Coulson sent reinforcements?"

Natasha recognized that voice, and she smirked at Clint, whose mouth had tightened into a thin line.

Lance Hunter came around behind the May, and looked comically startled for a moment before his gaze evened and he said coolly, "Barton."

"Hunter."

Natasha could feel the level of testosterone rising and sighed.

"You two can argue about whose fault this is and why neither of you were there some other time," she said looking between the two of them. "But right now we have Bobbi to save and _she_ should be your top priority, not this man-to-man standoff about who's to blame, understand?"

"Understood," they said together, nodding and breaking eye contact. Natasha knew they would be having words later, but at least they each knew the other would do anything in their power to save Bobbi.

"Let's head out," May said, motioning the five of them down the runway. "Ward's already had Bobbi for too long. Let's finish this."

She briefed them on their plan in quiet whispers as they walked along, keeping to the shadows of the city's buildings. They decided Clint would be on the roof of a building nearby, and shoot from there or jump to the roof of the warehouse Bobbi was being held in. May, Hunter, and Agents Evans and Walker would go up a conspicuous set of stairs, the largest they could find, since it was very likely that Ward and 33 would be watching the security cameras if they were not watching Bobbi, as it was rather obvious the pair was setting a trap for them.

They had decided Natasha would be going up a fire escape alone while the four SHIELD agents were creating a "distraction" and go from there.

* * *

Dawn was breaking as they arrived at the warehouse, not that the loss of shadows and their resulting enhanced stealth made much of a difference for Natasha or Clint. They'd both been on enough missions at all sorts of hours, anyway.

They split from the main group when the warehouse came into view, though it looked to be more of a storage facility, the walls high and brick with thick glass tiles to provide some light and a few broken windows where the opaque glass had been shattered.

Clint climbed a nearby building, scaling it easily, and jumped from there to the roof of the building Bobbi's phone signal had led them to, just catching a glimpse of Natasha's red hair before she slipped into the shadows of the alley alongside the warehouse.

He found the entrance to the duct system and slid in, then waited for the signal before he continued on.

* * *

Agent May kicked down the door with a "bang" and Hunter followed her up the stairs, fanning out as they reached the upper corridors. The goal was to be as stealthy as they could while still being a distraction, so Hawkeye and Black Widow could get in unseen and unnoticed.

Hunter didn't much fancy the idea of needing help from Strike Team Delta, especially when they had obviously kept in contact enough to know Bobbi had gone off grid unexpectedly, but hadn't done anything about it. He knew he was being irrational – it wasn't as if he'd been able to do any more, even with his closer contact – but that didn't diminish his feelings in the slightest.

It didn't help that he hadn't even known Bobbi was in contact with them, either. That she hadn't turned to _him_, but to her old beau and her old beau's newer girlfriend.

Hunter tried to remind himself that it wasn't as if he'd given Bobbi an in – he'd shunned her, not the other way around. But he knew she'd been struggling, and it hurt to realize that she had apparently been talking with others instead of with him. Despite his apparent coldness to his ex-wife, Hunter really did care.

The current situation, however, wasn't the best during which to sort through all of his complicated feelings, and he pushed those thoughts aside as he and Evans finished sweeping the first corridor on the ground floor, reaching a set of stairs.

"We'll take the stairs up and work our way around this side of the building."

Evans' eyes met his own and the other man nodded. Hunter started up the stairs, Evans following close behind, covering him, then turned off to the right, finding a metal staircase that went along the side of a larger room.

Hunter held his breath, looking around the mostly empty room (save for some wooden pallets and a rusty forklift) once with his bare eyes and once using the scope on his gun.

"She's not here," he told Evans as he returned to the top of the staircase. "Let's keep heading up."

* * *

When she heard the bang of the front door being kicked in, Natasha sprung lithely from the ground to grab hold of the railing on the fire escape, then swung backward to flip over the rail and land in a crouch. Only the slightest creak came from the metal as she flipped her head back, clearing her hair from in front of her face.

Darting up two short stretches, Natasha listened at the door then used a short blast of electricity from the Widow's Bites to short out any alarm system before expertly picking the lock and swinging the door open. She drew a gun and headed down the hall, checking each room as she headed north to the rendezvous point she and May had agreed on.

* * *

Clint heard the bang of the door open and waited patiently until he heard two pairs of footsteps run beneath the vent he was sheltered in. He delayed a few seconds more, then detached the panel at the end of the vent from the rest of the metal and slid out, unfurling his bow as he dropped to the ground and sliding an arrow from his quiver as he stood and made his way down the hall perpendicular to the one Hunter and Evans had taken.

* * *

Hunter walked quickly down the hallway along the edge of the building, darting ahead to look into rooms before coming across a hallway that led through the center of the floor.

"Take that hallway, check every room," he directed Evans, who nodded shortly and continued on, gun held high.

The Brit continued down the hall they'd been searching, instinctively feeling like he was close. "I'll find you Bob," he muttered to himself, readjusting his grip on his gun, eyes attentive. "Bob? Bob. Bob-"

* * *

Bobbi's head lifted as she heard her name echoing around off the walls. She blinked the sleep away from her eyes, realizing she had drifted off in a daze of pain. The first thing she noticed was the steady light outside the windows that showed it was morning. The second was the aching pain that was the fingertips of her right hand and the back of her head and her right leg and her stomach which was growling and her head which pounded from dehydration.

She had been in similar situations before, and she knew she could make it out, even if she had to dislocate or break a couple of joints to do so.

But the third thing she noticed was that her nickname called in the British accent she knew so well was _not_ a trick of her imagination, but was coming from the hall leading to the booby-trapped door. Adrenaline surged, her eyes widening, and Bobbi looked to her left and saw the automatic standing on its tripod, cold and menacing and deadly. Her heart beginning to race and Bobbi yelled fruitless warnings through the forgotten gag, the fabric muffling any sound she could have made.

Oh _why_ had she fallen asleep? She'd held up better in plenty worse situations – was she getting soft?

Brains were soft.

_Brains everywhere. Spoosh._

She pulled hard at the leather on her wrists, at the shackles around her feet, nearly screaming at the pain her nerves reported from her leg and fingers.

Soon realizing the struggle was in vain, Bobbi calmed herself and settled her mind as quickly and easily as she could in her mostly-awake state. She hadn't been asleep for very long – an hour at the most – but she could have used that time to escape. Not that it mattered anymore, since what was done was done and nothing could change it.

She looked over at the gun again, then to the door, predicting the trajectory. Another glance to the gun, then to the ground where the chair was bolted down, connected to thick lengths of chain.

Bobbi never thought she would be so glad to see chains.

Rocking the chair back and forth, she prayed that the walls were thick enough to keep Hunter from locating her immediately and started trying to shift her seat to the side. She might not be able to keep the gun from going off, but she _could_ control who it hit and, to an extent, where.

Kara and Ward had been partially right – Bobbi cared little about her own wellbeing in the grand scheme of things – but they underestimated just how much she cared for the others in her life. No matter what happened to her, Hunter would be walking out of the building alive.

* * *

Clint had just come across a divide, with one branch of the hallway leading straight ahead, and another leading to his left, when he heard the obvious but only just discernable sounds of punching. He drew the string on his bow back, creeping forward.

Out of a doorway on his right came a dark-haired man holding a radio – not one of May's agents – and Hawkeye fired.

The man had seen him though, and he threw himself out of the way of the incoming arrow, though it left a deep gouge in his upper arm. Hawkeye caught a glimpse of the man's face, and recognized Ward from the pictures in SHIELD reports. He felt anger rising in his chest and drew another arrow, firing it at Ward's thigh. It would be easier to make his life hell if the man couldn't run away.

But Ward was fast, and he'd rolled out of the way, only a thin graze showing up on his leg. Hawkeye pulled out another arrow even as Ward drew a handgun, and they fired together. The archer had to duck into a doorway to avoid the shot, but by Ward's grunt of pain, it seemed that Hawkeye's arrow had found its target.

There was a rustle from the hall and Clint stuck his head out, only to pull his head back in as a bullet nearly missed him. Ward had managed to stand, one hand on the gun, the other against the wall, the feathered end of an arrow sticking out of his lower abdomen through the bulletproof vest he wore, and had _still_ been steady enough to fire a gun and nearly hit him.

The stories had been that Ward was almost Natasha's equal as an agent, but Clint had never put much stock in stories. Unfortunately, there was no denying the man was stubborn and not willing to give in. Clint wondered where Agent 33 was, Ward's accomplice. And where was Bobbi? No one had radioed for assistance, and none of them had given any indication they knew where she was.

A sudden thudding of heavy footsteps raced away from where Clint had taken shelter and he cursed himself for drifting. He knocked an arrow and jumped out, firing quickly at Ward's retreating figure, but he darted around the corner. Clint went to follow when a loud groan came from the door Ward had initially sprung out of.

He went in to the room, a bathroom by the look of the tiled walls and floor and the row of sinks along one wall, and found Agent Evans slumped against one wall. A harsh bruise was already forming on his face and he blinked dazedly at Clint, his eyes dilated.

Clint recognized the signs of a concussion immediately.

"Stay awake for me, Evans," he said, pulling off the man's helmet and adjusting his body so it was in a more comfortable position. "Stay awake, you got that? I can't have you falling asleep, got that?"

"Yeah," Evans croaked, nodding slightly and wincing as he did. "Go- I-I'll be fine. Go help the team. I'll be fine."

Clint gave him a steady, assessing look, noting the man's determination, and knew he would be fine.

Hawkeye nodded, drew a fifth arrow, and ran out on light feet, ready to hunt.

* * *

Natasha lingered out of sight at the bottom of a set of stairs, covering Agent Walker as he went up the stairs. They had covered the south corner of the building, but had found nothing and were heading up to rendezvous with May. Hunter had turned off his com unit, unsurprisingly, but he and Evans were on the top floor, and it wouldn't do for them to call off their own search to discuss another.

"Agent May?" Walker asked hesitantly, putting Natasha instantly on alert. Something was wrong.

"Not quite," a smug female voice said, and a second later Agent Walker was tumbling down the stairs. Natasha tensed to run, but held her ground. That had to be Agent 33, who had once held May's face. But why had she simply knocked Walker to the ground instead of killing him? It didn't seem like her MO, especially in such a tense situation.

Shots were fired on the upper floor before it went silent, and Agent Walker stirred where he laid on the ground.

There was chatter from a radio above them, what sounded like May's voice, and Natasha saw that Walker's radio was missing from his the strap on his shoulder – it had probably been taken from him by 33. More silence, then light footsteps heading down the stairs, toward her.

Natasha slipped into the shadows near the stairs. 33 walked by, unassuming, looking back once, just as her face was morphing into May's with the help of the nano mask. The woman headed toward the south end of the building, where Natasha and Walker had just come from, and the redhead debated going after her for only a moment before she dismissed the idea.

Bobbi hadn't been down that way, she was sure of it. And Bobbi was the first priority. Ward and Kara were second.

She checked Walker's pulse, then up the stairs to rendezvous with May.

A gun was aimed at her was she stepped out of the doorway, though May lowered it almost instantly.

"Did you see 33?" she asked, face hard.

"She headed toward the south corner."

"Good," May said, nodding with an air of smugness. "And Agent Walker?"

"33 threw him down the stairs, so he's unconscious, but he'll live," Natasha reported. "Any word from Evans or Hunter?"

"None."

"You seen Clint?"

"I think he's still on the top floor, same as them," May said. "And there's only that and the rest of this floor to check yet."

"Excellent," Natasha said, adjusting the Widow's Bite on her left wrist. "Let's go find our Mockingbird."

* * *

Hunter was running down the hall, breathing hard. He wasn't so much out of breath as he was simply hyped-up on adrenaline, but his nerves were starting to get to him. He could practically _feel_ Bobbi getting closer with each step he took, and he couldn't help worrying about what he'd find when he finally found her.

He passed a blacked-out window and slowed, noticing the door was closed, unlike most of the rooms he'd come across while searching the building.

Inching forward, he grabbed the doorknob, slowly twisting it. He took another breath and ran in the room, though all he saw was high walls painted blood red. The room was empty.

Sighing, he exited and found himself almost shooting at Barton, who had entered the hallway at almost the same moment Hunter had.

"Don't scare me like that, mate," he reprimanded, shaking his head darkly as he readjusted his grip on the gun. "God, I almost shot you."

Barton looked unamused. "You still have this hall to search?" he asked instead.

Hunter nodded.

"I'll cover your six just in case. Ward was up here a moment ago. He took out Evans."  
"Evans is dead?" Hunter exclaimed.

"Just a concussion, and he's probably going to have a killer headache in the morning."

"No kidding. You'll cover me?"

Barton nodded, and as much as Hunter didn't like the man, he once again mentally agreed to a truce. For Bobbi.

_I'm coming for you, Bob_, he thinks with all his might, not wanting to speak, to sound so desperate in front of the archer.

He came to another closed door, the windows across from it blocked over so it was in shadow, but Hunter saw dark splatters on the wall, and turned the light on his gun on. The bright red shone back at him – blood that wasn't yet dry – and his stomach sank.

"She's in here," he said, gesturing to the blood splatters.

Barton nodded, and stood back from the door. "I'll be behind you, ready to shoot," he murmured, keeping his voice low. "We don't know if 33 is in there or not."

Hunter nodded, swallowing dryly, and readjusted his grip on the gun, then reached for the doorknob, turning it silently. He swung it open in one movement and stepped in, eyes hardly having a chance to take in the spare room, Bobbi right there in front of him, tilting to one side, her eyes wide and pleading, her face dirty, her lips separated by a gag, her blonde hair held back away from her face.

A bang echoed through the room.

Warm drops of liquid hit his face.

The chair toppled back to the ground. Bobbi slumped forward; Hunter couldn't understand why for only a split second. Then he saw the gun her body had been shielding from view. His mind stuttered to a halt as it took in the gun and the cooling droplets on his face and the growing stain of wet red on the front of Bobbi's shirt.

"Bobbi!" he screamed, her name echoing off the walls as Clint shouted it as well. They surged forward in unison, sharing a moment weakness for the woman who had worked her way into their hearts.

* * *

A floor below, Natasha and May looked up as they heard the shot, louder than a handgun, and a muffled scream deadened by concrete walls. They shared a glance before taking off, sprinting for the stairs, all thoughts of stealth thrown out the window, their guns raised and adrenaline coursing through their systems as they prepared to fight.

* * *

**Yeah, you hate me.**

**But you know, that cliffhanger was just too good to pass up, sorry! ;)**

**Also: It's a chapter! Yay! A week and two days late, for which I am very sorry, but in the last week I started my first job, which is full time and sucks up a lot more of my time than I expected it to, and I've just been generally exhausted, which makes it hard to write.**

**I must say, it's also really hard to write when the chapter just wants to be written in present tense and you have to go back and edit all of the verbs to their correct tense. Please let me know if I missed any!**

**We won't have much Bobbi POV for the next few chapters, for obvious reasons, but we're going to have a lot more of Hunter, and of Clint and Natasha, and of interactions between them all. :) I'm excited for that.**

**Thank you all so much for sticking with this story, especially with another late update, but I have the whole weekend with nothing to do, so I should have some time to write. There _will_ be a chapter up on Tuesday. I promise. Hold me to that. PM me. Do _whatever it takes_.**

**Side note: Apparently my dad thinks, at the end of the finale, that Fitz opened the Kree stone's case/box on purpose, though whether it was because he genuinely wanted to or whether he was being mind controlled was in debate. It was a theory I hadn't considered before, but I think it makes sense, or at least gives a reason as to why Fitz didn't lock the box back up after quite obviously opening it, and seemingly not noticing what happened even though it made a rather loud noise...**

**Anyway, food for thought - tell me your theories on the stone! I personally think it's a portal somewhere, though _where _exactly I have no idea...**

**Thanks again for reading and reviewing and following and favoriting (and all of the above). You guys and gals are all amazing and I appreciate your support! **

**Until Tuesday!**

**~Dancer**


	14. 2x22 (SOS Part 5)

**Takes place during 2x22 - "SOS"**

* * *

If she thought she had been in pain before, she was sorely mistaken. The new fire that ripped through her back and chest, carving a deep chasm through the left side of her body that was immediately filled with a fire that burned hotter than any of the torture she had been through.

But to see Hunter rushing at her, Clint close behind, as her eyes drifted shut – knowing that they were alive and _there_ and sure to live another day? It was worth all the pain she could take.

_And I seem to have reached the limit_, she thought groggily, her sliding closed and her ears picking up only the rise and fall of voices, not the words they spoke.

She was vaguely aware of her wrists and ankles being freed from their restraints, and body being lowered to the ground. Frantic words that she couldn't make out. The gag was gone from her mouth. Her lung must have been punctured by the bullet, as each breath was harder and harder to take in. The warm touch of hands on her face, fingers brushing away her hair, was the last thing she felt before giving herself up to the pain.

* * *

Natasha ran down the hallway ahead of May, almost wishing Grant Ward would spring out at her so she could slit his sorry throat with her knife or electrocute him with her Widow's Bites. He had done _something_ to Bobbi to make both Hunter and Clint yell as they had, and whatever it was couldn't be good.

But she didn't hear the sound of a fight as she approached the open door at the end of the hall. Only soft mutterings and whispers.

She slid into the doorway, gun raised, and expertly took in the scene before her.

Empty chair with restraints, gun on a tripod, obviously tripped to fire when the door was opened – _who was shot?_ – Bobbi, on the ground, red seeping through her shirt to form a dark patch above her heart, Clint, ripping his shirt into makeshift bandages, Hunter, trying to rouse the blonde, to keep her awake and aware.

"Bobbi, stay with me. Stay with me, Bobbi. Bobbi- _Bobbi,_" he was saying, his voice drifting and his hands shaking.

"Pull yourself together, Hunter!" Clint ordered, handing him strips from his shirt. "We need to do our best to stop the bleeding! Use these."

Hunter nodded shakily, though he firmly held the fabric against the front of Bobbi's wound.

"Clint!" Natasha said sharply to get his attention, her mind racing. "Is the roof open enough for a Quinjet to land?"

He looked up at her, eyes hard, masking the pain she knew he was feeling. "Easily," he answered, knowing her plan.

"Get her up there, and I'll be back ASAP," she instructed, holstering her gun and dashing out of the room, past Agents May and Juarez and down and out into the street where people were just starting their days.

Praising her luck, Natasha pulled a thick wad of Euros out of a pocket and shoved them into the hand of a man who was just revving up his motorcycle.

"Toma el dinero. Necesito tu moto," she said in Spanish, though she admitted her manners _could_ have been better. She practically threw him from the motorcycle so she could take off, speeding down the street toward the runway.

* * *

"Oh god, oh god, please Bobbi," Hunter was saying as May ran in. There was a splatter of blood on his face, which she could see when he turned to look up at her.

"We've got to get her out of here!" he pleaded, his voice cracking. His knuckles were white as he clenched a blood-soaked rag that was pressed against Bobbi's chest.

"Nat's bringing the Quinjet," Clint said, holding his hand behind Bobbi, putting pressure on the entry wound. "We'll stabilize her here and carry her up to the roof."

"But she's getting worse-"

"And she'll bleed out if we move her before the blood starts to clot!" Clint growled, ripping another strip off his shirt with one hand. "There's nowhere to bring her right now anyway, and a cold floor is going to help us more than a rooftop in the sun. May, you have any first aid supplies with you?"

"Juarez, med kit," she ordered, dropping to the ground as he pulled it out of his backpack. "It's not much," she admitted, unzipping the pouch, "but there's some gauze and a wrap."

"That's all we could hope for," Clint said, taking the gauze from her and giving some to Hunter. They packed the wound with it, and Hunter ran the fingers of his free hand through her hair, his eyes over bright. "Lift her up a bit," he said, adjusting his grip as they sat Bobbi up. "May, wrap it around tight enough to hold the gauze in place, but not too tight. I'm pretty sure the bullet hit her lung, and we don't need to restrict her breathing any more than necessary."

Hunter had slipped behind Bobbi to hold her up, his knees below her lower back and his hand under her head. He would _kill_ Ward if he ever saw the man again. His Bob was a softie, even if she never showed it. She would do anything for SHIELD, for her family. Ward had obviously figured it out and exploited her weakness to the fullest extent.

All those times he had called her out for being too loyal to SHIELD, for making it her life instead of her job – he finally was beginning to understand it. After months of working with Coulson's team and getting to know them he realized just how different SHIELD was from any work he'd ever done in the SAS or as a merc. Especially as a merc.

He'd _definitely_ chosen the merc life, but it had been lonely. Taking only part-time jobs and working for the highest bidder wasn't the way to make friends or keep 'em.

It had only been bearable when he worked his schedule around seeing Bobbi. She'd give him just enough information to find her at a motel somewhere near her where her own mission would take her and they'd have a night together, or at least a few hours.

But then after far too short a time she would need to leave and he'd blow up at her.

Even in Paris, where they'd eloped, he hadn't been able to shake his anger at the fact they would only have two days together instead of three (or a week, or the rest of their _lives_). They had met up in the city of love, had gotten swept up in the mood surrounding them, and had been married with a couple of random citizens as their witnesses.

Their marriage had lasted roughly two years before it had fallen apart.

They had been having a rough time. A few months after the Battle of New York, SHIELD had been pulled into the spotlight. Bobbi's job got more difficult, and they'd hardly had any time together. One night, the first time they'd been able to meet up in weeks, he had just finished taking her clothes off her when her phone rang and she was called in seven hours earlier than she'd expected.

He had tried to ignore the dark circles around her eyes and the exhaustion that seemed to weigh her down, as he had the last two times they'd met, but as she hurriedly packed her things and yanked her clothes on he hadn't been able to help himself.

There had been a lot of shouting from both of them – Hunter about commitment and questioning whether she truly loved him and Bobbi about responsibilities and apologies. The argument hadn't been their longest, but it had been the most heated, and the only thing Hunter actually remembered himself shouting was: "Then maybe it would be better if we just weren't married!"

He'd been too angry to notice, but her eyes had probably been sparkling with tears as she stormed out in a huff.

And the rest was history. Every effort to get back together had failed, and every time they met up they would shout, have angry sex, and "break up" again the next morning.

When SHIELD had fallen Hunter thought it was finally a stroke of luck. Sure, Bobbi's organization was in shambles, but she was talented – she could get a job wherever she wanted, he was sure. But he'd called her phone and it had been disconnected. He tried to get in touch and he thought she was ignoring him. So he moved on. Or, at least, he tried to.

Izzy and Idaho had met up with him, and he'd been relieved to know for sure that Bobbi had made it through HYDRA's takeover. Then he'd ended up with SHIELD whether he liked it or not, and he'd truly had an eye-opening experience. He'd started out for-hire, then he'd become, more or less, an agent. And just a few months with the team had enlightened him as to the unique relationships they shared. They truly cared for each other, just like a little family, and Hunter had been adopted in, whether he liked it or not.

He thought of Coulson's comment – "I think we've been spending too much time together" – and of the friendship that had developed between himself and Fitz. He'd found a connection to the team, even as reluctant as he had been to stay.

The whir of engines and Clint's order to get Bobbi to the roof chased away Hunter's inner musings. He scooped her up in his arms and even though she was taller than him it wasn't a huge struggle to get her to the roof where the Quinjet was touching down.

"Juarez and I will pick up Walker and Evans on our way out – we'll catch up with you at the base!" May shouted over the roar of the engines. Clint yelled something back over his shoulder, but Hunter was rushing to the quickly-descending ramp at the rear of the jet.

The sooner they got his Bob proper medical attention, the better.

* * *

"We'll meet you there!" Clint yelled in response to May's comment. May had told him they had medically trained agents at their base, which was their best option in the current circumstances. SHIELD was still labeled as a terrorist group by most of the world, and they didn't have time to deal with crowded hospital emergency rooms at any rate. It wouldn't have been a bad idea to just head back to Avengers Tower, but Bruce, who usually patched them up, was still off the radar and, from what May had said, there was a situation that Coulson could use them at base for.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to help the man, after everything that had happened, but he would do as much as he could to help SHIELD if they needed him.

So they were heading back to "The Playground". Clint didn't actually know where their base was, only that it was in the eastern USA, but he was sure Nat had already phoned Maria and threatened her to get Fury on the line. He would know where Coulson was stationed, and hopefully the man would be smart enough to not ask too many questions. Clint had seen Natasha's face as she ran to get the plane. It had been a dangerous look, full of promise – a promise to hurt everyone who got in the way of saving Bobbi.

Clint wondered if Fury would video call from the Helicarrier and get an eyeful of angry Natasha. He hoped so.

He sprinted up the ramp, past Hunter who was still carrying Bobbi, and pulled out the cot from where it was stored. After locking the legs in place he pulled hard to make sure it was anchored securely to the floor and pulled the medical supplies from the wall compartment they were stored in. After the Avengers had started going after HYDRA bases Tony had stocked up the jet with a large amount of medical supplies, as well as oxygen canisters just in case.

Clint would be thanking the billionaire profusely as soon as they got back to the Tower. He might even cook a meal or two for the man. (Tony was a real sucker for a home-cooked meal, even if he'd never admit it.)

It didn't take long to get Bobbi stabilized, but it was still touch-and-go. They had her secured to the table so turbulence wouldn't jostle her too much, especially at the speed they were flying, and Clint had had Hunter set up an oximeter while he had prepared the oxygen and a manual resuscitator just in case Bobbi's lung collapsed – a completely possible eventuality, as he was sure the bullet had clipped her lung.

He'd just finished when Natasha's voice drew his attention to the cockpit.

"What do you _mean_ you can't tell us?!" she shouted, keeping the plane steady even as she unleashed her rage on a certain African American man with an eyepatch. "Bobbi is _bleeding out_ on Stark's Quinjet that we "borrowed" from him and if you think you can keep that from me like you kept the fact that Coulson's _alive_-"

Her voice was cut off as she listened to the man on the other end of the call.

"Thank you kindly, _Nick_," Natasha said dangerously. Clint could imagine the tight glare on her face as she hung up the call, which was likely accompanied with a simpering grin and an unsaid promise for revenge

While Natasha brought them higher into the air and turned on the high speed thrusters, Clint found a seat to relax into where he could still keep an eye on Bobbi. Hunter was sitting beside her, staring at her face, his eyes unfocused, and Clint wanted to give him some space.

But he didn't feel comfortable joining Natasha in the cockpit, or leaving Bobbi in general. If her oxygen levels or pulse dropped below a certain level they would need to act fast to keep her stable. They were already ridiculously lucky her left lung hadn't collapsed or filled with too much blood, and it was a miracle she hadn't lost enough blood to do more than pass out.

Clint looked at the blonde, her hands dirty with grime and dried blood that flaked off her skin. He had noticed more blood on her right hand than her left, and didn't want to think about why that was. Clint also tried to stop from staring at her right leg. Bobbi's femur appeared to be fractured – her right leg wasn't entirely straight from just above the knee. Another spark of anger flared inside him. Ward would have to run far and wide to stay away from Strike Team Delta.

He wished he could set the bone back into position, but with Bobbi in an already variable state of wellness he didn't want to shock her body more than it already had been. There was also the fact that they had no idea when her leg had been broken – if it had been their first method of torture or if that had been saved for later. Either way, it had to have been a few hours, judging by the amount of swelling, and any attempts at setting it could cause more damage than harm if they interrupted with her body's natural healing process.

A sniffle and a muffled sob made him look to Hunter, who had gripped Bobbi's upper arm (likely because of the lack of blood in that particular area), a tear track down each side of his face.

The archer might not entirely approve of the former merc, but he couldn't deny the man's devotion to Bobbi.

"You doing all right?" he asked softly, his voice not loud enough to carry to the cockpit.

Hunter whipped his head up and wiped the wet trails off his face, though his watery eyes were enough to give him away.

"Why do you care?" he asked, though there was little venom in the question.

"Any friend of Bobbi's is a friend of mine," Clint said, standing and walking closer.

"You tried to shoot me."

"I succeeded."

"You hit my leg. I couldn't walk for a week!"

"You'd dumped my sister at the time," Clint said with a shrug. "It needed to be done."

Hunter sighed, using his free hand to rub his head. "I guess it did."

"You admit you were wrong to divorce her?"

"Me? Back down? Never," Hunter scoffed, though his sarcasm was muted by the crack in his voice. He was silent for a moment before nodding. "Yeah though, I suppose I was wrong. I didn't understand her, understand SHIELD. Heck, I thought you were her boyfriend the first time we met."

Clint made a face.

"I know, right?" Hunter said, shaking his head. "Even after she told me you were like her brother I didn't believe it. I was selfish and jealous."

"Which was why I shot you of course," Clint joked, "I hadn't given you the "you hurt her I'll hurt you" lecture, so I just ran with it."

That drew out a grim smile from the Brit.

"Shut up."

"Luckily for you it looks like you've changed your ways."

It wasn't a lie. Clint could see so much growth since Hunter and Bobbi had divorced. Old Hunter would have raged against Ward, and certainly wouldn't have paid as much attention as he did to Bobbi after she was shot. Old Hunter would have been pacing back and forth, nervous energy making him jittery, but New Hunter seemed to be directing that nervous energy through the grip he held on Bobbi's hand, channeling it into worry and determination.

"Not as much as you'd think," Hunter murmured, shaking his head. "I'm the reason Bobbi was there in the first place."

"Ward was the one who set up the trap-"

"33 was the one who took her though. If I had only been paying attention when they left instead of sulking around with Coulson and Fitz…"

"You're here now, and that's what matters," Clint said, trying to help. He had plenty of experience building Bobbi back up when she was beating herself up, but Hunter was an entirely different ballpark.

"But I wasn't there for her for _so long_," he said in a pained tone. "When SHIELD fell, where was I? I was calling SHIELD terrorists with the rest of the world. I blamed them for twisting Bobbi's logic, and I was angry that she wasn't responding to my calls or emails. I hadn't given _one thought_ to the fact that she'd lost friends in the HYDRA takeover."

He shook his head, looking pained.

"All those years on and off – from that first time she was sent to get intel from me to our marriage to this mess that came after… I always thought that SHIELD was the enemy. They were the ones keeping me from Bobbi, or keeping her from me, more like.

"I wanted her to give it up so badly. I offered more than once the chance to run away, to leave behind the crazy lives we had and move on. The most recent time…"

He trailed off, raising his eyes to meet Clint's. He met them steadily, just listening. The man had obviously been wanting to get his feelings off his chest for a while now.

"How much do you know about the two different SHIELDS?" Hunter asked.

"Only what Nat's told me," he said, nodding to the redhead in the cockpit. "That Commander Gonzales led one and Coulson led the other, that there was a standoff."

"Bit more than a standoff," Hunter scoffed. "They blew a hole in the side of our base. I was actually on the run when they did that – I'd been kidnapped and brought to their aircraft carrier they used as a base. But anyway, Bobbi was with the SHIELD that Gonzales led. We'd gotten close again, and again she'd turned out to have secrets."

He shook his head. "I offered it to her again – 'why not start over' I asked her, and I said some bullshit about how leaving would let us be new, better people.

"She didn't respond for a moment, I remember," he said, dropping his gaze down to the blonde's face. "And then she looked at me with those big, sad, blue eyes, I'm sure you know the ones, and she tells me she can't. 'I need to finish this' I think she said. I didn't know what she meant then, but I think I do now."

The Brit seemed to be lost in thought as he stared at Bobbi's face, and Clint understood. Bobbi was loyal to a fault. She would never give up on her friends, many of whom she considered family since she'd cut ties with her biological parents.

"I've always wanted her to come to me," he said absently. "But it took me coming to her to understand just why she couldn't."

Clint smiled at that, feeling a fond warmth in his chest grow for the man in front of him, deciding to set aside any qualms he'd held against him. It really was a different man in front of him than the impulsive merc he'd met twice before.

"Bobbi has a way of doing that," the archer said, nodding. "She's so hard to understand until the moment you finally _get_ her, understand her reasoning-"

"And it just becomes her," Hunter said, genuinely smiling. "And she turns into someone so beautiful."

He chuckled. "Bobbi's the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

* * *

"Good, because otherwise I'd need to shoot you again," Clint said, and Hunter knew that he hadn't made the connection.

"You watch much British television?" Hunter asked, smirking.

"Can't say I have," Clint said, looking confused. "Why?"

"No reason," Hunter said, looking down at Bobbi and feeling his eyes fill with tears again. God, he was getting so weepy all of a sudden.

The two of them sat in companionable silence, watching closely as Bobbi's chest rose and fell, and Hunter thought long and hard about his relationship with the woman lying between himself and Hunter.

It wasn't long before Bobbi's breathing got more labored and they needed to start a nasal cannula to give her more oxygen. Natasha told them they had about an hour until touchdown. She would contact the Playground as soon as they were within range, and Simmons and the other scientists could get the lab ready to take Bobbi in. Hunter hadn't even known Simmons _had_ a medical degree, but he wasn't complaining.

Soon they were landing and prepping Bobbi to move into the base, but Bobbi seemed to be drained of her will to fight. Just as they started moving her, the blonde's oxygen levels dropped dangerously and they discovered she had stopped breathing.

From there it was a flurry of Clint working the resuscitator, Natasha clearing the way, and Hunter trailing after them, feeling woefully inept and helpless as he watched Bobbi be wheeled into the lounge, outfitted to be a makeshift operating theater, her skin eerily pale under the bright lights.

* * *

**Well, it's not Tuesday. It's Thursday. Sorry. :( I'm blaming Hunter for this chapter though. He did not want to be written, and it was especially hard to get into his character (any feedback would be MUCH APPRECIATED, since we'll be seeing more of him in the next two chapters).**

**A few notes:**

**1) A manual resuscitator is the more general term for "Ambu bag" and is what May mentions using on Bobbi in the show. It basically forces air into someone's lungs to keep them from suffocating due to lack of oxygen.**

**2) I took some liberty with backstories, especially Hunter's, since we don't know much about him at all. But we do know that he's very verbal in his expression of emotions, which is where his monologue came in. And it might seem a little out of character, but I think he would bond with Clint enough over Bobbi so he would feel comfortable sharing about his relationship with her. :)**

**3) Did you catch the Doctor Who quote, Whovians? It just sort of came out, and I love imagining Hunter watching Doctor Who when he has a break, maybe with Fitz (when they're not watching socc-_footbal__l_, that is). ;)**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you all so much for reading!**

**See you next week!**

**~Dancer**


	15. 2x22 (SOS Part 6)

**Contains scenes from episode 2x22 - "SOS"**

* * *

Clint stepped back from Bobbi as the scientists-acting-as-doctors swarmed around her, reporting to "Agent Simmons". He had expected the biochemist to be a bit older, closer to Bobbi's age or his own, but the woman, who could only be in her mid-twenties at the most, wasn't having any trouble directing the other men and women, and seemed to know perfectly well what she was doing.

He retreated to where Natasha was standing and forced himself to tear his eyes away from the blonde's beaten visage. His gaze landed on Hunter, whose face was blanketed with anguish and worry, his eyes glazed over.

And then Clint saw Coulson.

His first reaction was to pull a Pepper, to run over and slap him across the face, not that it would even make a dent in the well of anger Clint was drawing from. Just looking at Coulson, it was as if nothing had changed. The man was in his obligatory suit, his brow creased with worry for his team, and his hair was still receding.

It was almost as though three years hadn't passed since the funeral, since they had, _apparently_, buried an empty casket.

Running footsteps forewarned Agent May's arrival, and she stopped just as she reached the doorway to "The Playground's" common area. The sight of Bobbi lying there made her suck in a deep breath, and though her face was blank Clint had spent so much time accommodating Natasha's "expressionless" expressions that he was easily able to read the concern in her features.

The older agent's approach had drawn the attention of Simmons, who looked over for just a moment, then returned her gaze to Bobbi, overseeing the re-inflation of her left lung.

"If you are not assisting us, please get out," she said to the room at large, her sharp British cadence cutting through the mask she wore over her face. Her eyes didn't stray from the tube she was carefully handling.

Hunter made to argue, but before he could do more than suck in a deep breath, a younger man in a grey cardigan had stepped up from behind Coulson to place a hand on the Brit's shoulder. "Let's get you cleaned up, mate," he said quietly, Clint not able to hear the words clearly, but able to read the man's lips. "Bobbi wouldn't want to see you like this."

He gestured to Hunter's bloody face and clothes, and Hunter looked down at himself, his eyes clearer, and simply nodded, letting himself be pulled away.

Coulson watched them go, and then his eyes came back to meet Clint's own.

The man's mouth tightened into a thin line, part anxiety and part discomfort, Clint was sure, and the man's gaze fell next to Clint, onto Natasha. Clint looked over at her and saw her face was set in a cold stare, one that had made many of her marks tremble. Coulson only nodded over his shoulder to a set of stairs that could only lead to his office.

Clint looked at Tasha, wondering if they should go, and Natasha looked back, but they were interrupted from their silent conversation by another exclamation of "Out!" from Simmons, accompanied by an exasperated tone, but eyes filled with worry just above the mask she wore.

They followed the new Director of SHIELD up to his office. Coulson gestured to two chairs in front of him, but when neither Clint nor Natasha took a seat he just nodded and stood in front of his desk.

"I suppose we have a lot to discuss," Coulson said evenly.

Anger welled up inside Clint, brewing like a storm, but before it could overflow Natasha had already punched Coulson in the shoulder, hard enough to send him staggering back a few steps.

"I don't care if Fury was the one to keep it secret. _You_ were the one who chose to keep it from us," she snapped, anger clouding her tone.

"True," Coulson said with a tense nod. "But first, you need to know that I really did die."

He straightened up, fiddling with the cuffs of his suit jacket. "I was dead for a few days."

"Dead-dead or just coma-dead?" Clint found himself asking, needing to know just how much Fury had lied to them. He had thought the former Director lying about his own death was the worst betrayal, but Clint had been mistaken. Coulson was standing in front of him, alive and none the worse for having a freaking_ scepter_ stabbed through his chest.

"Actually, legitimately dead," Coulson answered. "My heart stopped beating, not that there was much left of it after Loki had finished, and I was medically, certifiably dead for a couple of days."

"And how did you come back?"

Coulson winced and a flash of pain flickered across his face. "Classified."

"Don't give me that bullshit-"

"You don't want to know!" Coulson shot back

"I really think I do," Clint argued, taking a step forward.

"Trust me, Barton, you really don't," he said, his voice softening, looking away from them for the first time. He sighed. "I didn't know for the longest time myself – I was obsessed with finding out what they did," Coulson said. "And then I did."

He looked Clint right in the eye and Clint saw something dark there he'd never seen in Coulson's eyes before. It was a pain that went deep, a scarring pain that he'd encountered in Melinda May and Natasha Romanoff, but never in his handler – the man who loved his red Corvette, Captain America, and pop-culture references.

"It wasn't pretty, Clint," he said with all seriousness, then he blinked and broke the stare, turning to pull off his suit jacket and pull on a bulletproof vest. "And it's a long story that I don't really have the time to tell right now, even if I wanted to. If you hadn't noticed, we have a bit of a situation."

"The SOS?" Natasha asked, making Clint look over at her, confused. What was she talking about?

Coulson nodded. "A group of super-powered individuals took over the Iliad, an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic, late yesterday, and they are intent on destroying what's left of SHIELD."

"You never do things by halves, do you, Coulson?" Natasha remarked with a roll of her eyes.

"Can't help it," Coulson said with a shrug, the banter Clint remembered coming back full-force. "Trouble tends to come looking for me."

"What SOS are we talking about?" Clint asked.

"A strong SOS on SHIELD frequencies," Natasha said, crossing her arms across her chest. "I would have stopped, but we had more important things to worry about."

She sent a significant glance back at the door to the office.

"It's a good thing you didn't," Coulson said, nodding. "They probably would have killed you as soon as you touched down. The distress call was sent out soon after they'd taken over the ship, and since then it's only grown, hinting at a trap."

"Well, we've already walked into one trap today – how bad could this one be?" Clint asked. He and Nat had experienced plenty of difficult situations. A group of kids with abilities wasn't going to be a problem, especially if they were working with what was left of SHIELD. And, if needed, they could call up Tony. The man would be even angrier than Nat and himself about Coulson's faked death, but he would do all he could to help. It was in his nature.

"Don't underestimate them, Barton," Coulson chided, sounding like his handler again. "They aren't like most of the people on the Index. They are organized, determined, and dangerous. Their leader, Jiaying, has a strong grudge against us, and she will stop at nothing to turn her people against us. She's already killed Commander Gonzales, blamed him for shooting her, and then stole a Quinjet to destroy their home in order to play us up as the enemy."

Clint stared at the man for a moment. He'd already agreed with Natasha's earlier statement. Coulson wasn't one to do something and not do it to the fullest. But this was insane, even for him.

"So you're suiting up to go take them down?"

"She's got my agents trapped on that carrier," Coulson said as if that was all that mattered. "A hundred or so were on the ship, and I don't know how many are left alive, but I know that if we don't act, they'll be dead before tomorrow."

Well, Fury and Coulson certainly had different leading styles. Clint had known it from the beginning, of course, but this hit it home. When Fury was Director, especially in the earlier years, he would have blown the ship to smithereens with no regard for friend or foe – he stuck strongly by the part of the SHIELD code that stated something about the greater good being worth more than an individual. On the other hand, Coulson had always made sure people knew his number of acceptable casualties was zero, and that he would do whatever it took to get his people out safely. Back in the day he'd been a real stickler for the rules, but as time went on Coulson had become more and more encouraged to go off-book.

Clint had worried that with him becoming Director, he might have reverted back to the original, goody-two-shoes he was.

Luckily, even with the "promotion", with that extra step of authority, Coulson seemed to have kept his acceptable number of losses at none. It was, dare Clint say, a comfort. After experiencing HYDRA and Ultron, both of which would destroy anything in their paths to get their way, it was nice to know that Coulson was staying true to what he believed in.

Natasha trailed her fingers up his arm and Clint looked at her, wondering if she was asking him what he wanted to ask her. She was, and he raised an eyebrow before nodding.

"Seems like we're gonna to help you out, Phil," he said, turning to Coulson. It sounded like Coulson could use all the help he could get, and regardless of the rumors they told, or used to tell, at the Academy, Strike Team Delta wasn't heartless. "Just don't expect any more favors until this is all over."

They would be having a nice, long discussion about the last three years after they returned.

"Director Coulson?"

Clint and Natasha spun around to face the agent standing in the doorway.

"Yes, Agent Sheppard?"

"Agent Morse is stabilized, sir," the young woman said, shifting slightly, Clint realized, under the gaze of himself and Nat. "But Agent Simmons has requested she be allowed to stay behind, to keep tabs on her status and recovery."

"Let her know that'll be alright."

"And… Agent Hunter wishes to speak with you sir, when you have a minute."

"I'll be down momentarily; we're almost done here," he said with a nod. "Is that all?"

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed, Agent Sheppard."

She nodded and hurried away, clutching the sleeves of her white lab coat as she sent a wary glance back toward Natasha.

"Still scaring the newbies, Romanoff?" Clint teased her.

"I wasn't _trying_ to," she said with a roll of her eyes.

He punched her shoulder gently. "You never do."

"If you two are finished…"

The two of them looked toward Coulson, who was quick to hide his smirk. "T-minus 15 minutes till takeoff," he said. "Be ready to head out then."

"We will," Nat assured him with a nod, heading out of the office. Clint followed behind.

They descended the steps and entered the lounge area, darker and emptier than it had been, the scientists having returned to their labs and the lights dimmed. Bobbi was sleeping on the gurney, covered by a blue sheet. Her face had been cleared of blood and dirt and her hair had been tidied up a bit.

Hunter slowly approached her bed, Agent Simmons behind him. She rested a hand on his arm in silent support, and he shot her a grateful smile before returning his gaze to Bobbi.

Agent Simmons looked at the two of them and then backed away, giving them privacy. Clint was ready to go down the last few stairs but Natasha held him back with a hand on his arm.

"What-"

"Shh."

Nat silenced him with a finger on her lips, and pointed over to Agent Simmons, who continued to shoot looks over at Bobbi and Hunter. The young woman's eyes suddenly widened and she brought a hand to her mouth. After a moment of indecision she raced out of the lounge, obviously with a destination in mind.

"How do you think Coulson's rules about fraternization between agents are different from Fury's?" Natasha asked Clint, a smirk on her lips.

That made him chuckle. Fury had always tried to be strict about his "no-fraternization" rule, but that wasn't easy to do, especially not when he had soft spots for all his favorite agents. Case in point, himself and Nat. Even when they'd exited the training room after an especially long session where the security cameras had mysteriously malfunctioned and found him in the hall outside, he'd only given them a raised eyebrow from his uncovered eye and continued on his way.

"Probably not much different," Clint said with a grin. "Especially with SHIELD so small."

Coulson was always a bleeding heart, which wasn't a bad thing for him. But Clint would wager that very few agents would have the rules of fraternization strictly enforced on them.

They finished out the stairs, ending up behind Hunter. He had taken a seat at Bobbi's bedside, both his hands cradling her left, his head bowed low.

"You coming with us, Teacup?" Clint asked, laying a hand on the Brit's shoulder. Hunter turned and glared at him, though there was a minimal amount of venom in his eyes.

"I'll never forgive Bobbi for giving me that nickname," her mumbled, though he held back an affectionate grin.

"At least you aren't an archer," Nat piped up, causing both men to turn to her. Clint groaned when he realized what she was going to say. "That profession earns you lovely monikers like 'Katniss', 'Legolas', and 'Robin Hood'."

"Thanks for nothing, Tasha," Clint grumbled when Hunter laughed heartily and sent him an evil grin. "But you didn't answer my question," he said, addressing Hunter again. "You gonna' fight the bad guys with us?"

Hunter's smile drooped at the corners and he sighed. "I'm staying with Bobbi, as long as Coulson will let me," he said, bracing his arms against the metal frame of the gurney. "I'm not even an official SHIELD agent. Heck, my contract was my signature on a napkin at a bar, while Coulson was a fugitive from his own organization. I don't even think I'm on the payroll."

* * *

"I don't fancy risking my life for a cause I'm not totally committed to," he continued, shaking his head. "And I can't leave Bobbi like this. We have our differences, but I don't know what I would've done if she died today. I can't speak for her, and I'm quite sure she still hates me, but I'm willing to try again, _especially_ if she is as well."

Bobbi had been avoiding him for the past three weeks, but he'd been avoiding her too. And it was always that way in their relationship. They would fall out and argue, keep to themselves for a few weeks, then reunite. He only hoped that they weren't too far gone, that they could try again. Maybe even take it slower, not that there was much chance of that happening if the past was any indicator.

"I'm not a SHIELD agent, I don't want to die today, but more than all that I don't want Bobbi to wake up and find out that I'm dead," _Or to die knowing that I'm the reason she's hurt. Hell, she took a bullet for me._ "And maybe that's selfish. I hope it's not, but I tend to be like that, whether I try to or not. But I know Bobbi – I've known her for years, and I'm still getting to know her, but I do know that whether she's speaking to me or not at the moment, she cares about me in that way she does. Her leg is broken, her scapula fractured, her lung punctured, and her psyche is probably damaged. I don't want to add any more pain on top of that."

Bobbi was a bleeding heart even if she didn't know it. She was loyal to a fault, even if she tried to distance herself. After nearly four years of knowing her, Hunter felt like he had finally figured out that part of her.

He realized he'd been rambling something awful, but he had taken the moment to be honest and, truly, it had been good to get most of what he wanted to say off his chest. Though he hadn't even touched on the fact he was more or less the reason she was in such a state. The trap they walked into? The bullet? Tripping the kill switch Ward had left as a farewell present?

"You make a convincing argument, Hunter," Coulson said from behind him.

Hunter jumped and spun around, startled. _Damn_ that man for being able to sneak up on him.

"Coulson."

He tried to act nonchalant even as he rubbed his neck, feeling uncomfortable.

"You're allowed to stay back, Hunter," the older man said with a smile and a nod. Hunter wondered how he could ever have resented the man.

Hunter imagined that, once upon a time, before everything in San Juan went down, he would have potentially sided with Gonzales. He'd been wary of Coulson, of SHIELD and its secrets in general (though that was mainly from his relationship with Bobbi), and of even the possibility of becoming an agent.

Then Gonzales had butted his way in and the shit with the Inhumans was going down and he'd ended up on the run with Fitz and Coulson. He'd had a pseudo little family, with a "father" and "brother" for all of two weeks.

Coulson had been right – they had been spending too much time together. But that didn't make it a bad thing.

"Thank you, sir," he said respectfully (the least he could do).

"After all," Coulson said. "I wanted this to be a small mission. And now that we've got Barton and Romanoff, well… Let's just say I don't need any more loose cannons running around."

"I feel like I should take offense to that remark," Hunter said with a laugh.

"I definitely take offense to that remark," Clint stated.

"You shouldn't," Natasha chimed in. "It's absolutely true."

Clint rolled his eyes at her and she just raised an eyebrow back at him.

"And on that note, we need to head out," Coulson said. "We've already wasted enough time."

As the three agents headed out, Hunter again sat himself down on the chair set at Bobbi's bedside. And when Simmons came in a few minutes later he pretended to be too busy watching the rise and fall of Bobbi's chest to notice her sniffling and red eyes as she checked the medical equipment.

* * *

**I NEED YOUR HELP - SEE THE END OF THE A/N!**

**If Hunter was the problem child last chapter, this chapter it was Clint. He wanted to be the main focus of the chapter, yet his character didn't want to be written. Tell me if you think I expressed his frame of mind clearly in this chapter. It was a lot harder than usual to get him to come across well for some reason, but I hope I managed it!**

**I'm also sorry for the wait. :/ My full time job sucks up so much of my time and energy - even when I get home I usually end up taking a nap before dinner. But I'm on vacation this week and we've had almost 12 hours of driving, so I had a lot of time to write! (But, as I said, Clint was being absolutely ridiculous and wouldn't let himself be written, which is why this wasn't up until today (Tuesday night/early Wednesday) instead of being posted yesterday. Not that Coulson's awkwardness with both Clint and Natasha helped at all.)**

**Thank you all for your patience and comments! Those of you who review - you make my day.**

**That being said... I NEED YOUR HELP!**

**Clint and Natasha are obviously going to be helping out on the Iliad - anyone want to give suggestions on where they could go to help out the team? It's the same mental block I had when writing them with Bobbi's rescue - they could be totally badass and storm the ship, taking out most everybody there, but some things need to happen: namely, Skye's encounter with her parents and Coulson's misfortune at the end.**

**ANYONE AND EVERYONE, even if you don't usually review, please help me out - give me ideas for where they could be, what could be changed, if I could bring in a comic book Inhuman to join the fight. I'm open to pretty much anything right now!**

**So please, more now than ever, read _and_ review! There will likely only be two more chapters for this, and then on to Age of Ultron! Yay!**

**Thanks once again for taking the time to read and review! Sorry the author's note was so long, but I need the help. :) I'm hoping for around 1.5 to 2 weeks for the next chapter, since I'll need to create quite a bit of original writing here.**

**Until then!**

**~Dancer**


	16. 2x22 (SOS Part 7)

**Contains scenes from episode 2x22 - "SOS"**

* * *

"I'd like to formally voice my doubts about bringing him on the mission," May said from the cockpit, only loud enough to be heard by the four standing near the cockpit.

She was talking, of course, about the dark-haired man who was sitting surrounded, and seemingly unconcerned, by the many SHIELD agents around him with guns. Coulson had given Clint and Natasha a quick background on him – Calvin Johnson, former doctor, who had attempted to augment his strength using a homemade, volatile replica of the super soldier serum used to create Captain America.

Apparently it had gone a bit wrong earlier that day, and he had turned into a hulking monster of a man, destroying the lab and much of the science equipment at the Playground. He was also the reason Agent Simmons had treated Bobbi in the lounge instead of a sanitary, spotless lab.

Clint found it difficult to not punch the man in the face after he'd heard that.

Coulson had also told them, as if the story couldn't get any stranger, that he was the husband of the leader of the Inhumans and the father of a SHIELD agent, who was also an Inhuman, who they suspected had been taken against her will. That agent, 'Skye', or to Cal, 'Daisy', was the only reason he had agreed to help them out. Clint had recognized the tone in Coulson's voice when he talked about Skye, and with the brief background he'd given them (grown up in a home, shuffled around families by SHIELD) he just knew the man had taken another broken kid under his wing.

First himself, then Nat, and Skye… Coulson seemed to attract troubled orphans. Though whether Skye qualified as an orphan now that she'd found her parents was up for discussion. At least Clint knew _that_ hadn't changed from the man who had mentored him through SHIELD.

"I understand your concerns, May," Coulson began, "but Cal's lived with the Inhumans. He knows what we're getting ourselves into, we do not."

"He's a loose cannon," May stated dryly.

Clint caught Natasha's eye and shrugged at her raised eyebrow. In all the time he'd known Coulson and Melinda May Clint had never seen them so terse with each other. But it wasn't the time to mention it, not when they were more than likely walking into a trap.

"If worst comes to worst, we let the cannon loose," Coulson said, his voice softening as he glanced back at Cal. "Cal's erratic, but if there's one constant, it's his concern for Skye."

_And your own, Coulson,_ Clint thought, hiding a smirk. He was still predictable, even after so long, even after dying and being brought back somehow.

Before Agent May had a chance to respond, Agent Fitz spoke up from where he was sitting.

"Sir, something's happening with the SOS signal on the boat," he said, his gaze flickering to Clint and Natasha where they stood before it returned to Coulson.

They'd been introduced to the engineer as they boarded the Quinjet, but since then the Scot had been quiet, busy monitoring the SOS signal the Iliad was sending out in case it got stronger again or cut out altogether.

"I thought it was breaking up," he continued, "like someone cutting the line."

"Radio interference?" Coulson asked, moving to look at the wavy lines on the screen representing the signal.

"No, but there's, um, uh," he gestured with his hand, looking for the words, "a pattern to it, like a code."

"Morse code?" Clint supplied.

"Yes, that one!" Fitz agreed, pointing a finger at him.

"It's Skye," Coulson said, leaning forward. "What's she saying?"

"That it's a trap."

"Nice to know our suspicions were correct."

"And that we're walking into a _second_ trap within twelve hours of the first," Clint said, starting to twirl an arrow between his fingers. "Haven't you missed this, Nat? The _thrill_ that is working with SHIELD? I know I have."

"There's always a catastrophe somewhere, Barton," Natasha quipped, raising an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes. She smirked.

"Uh…"

Fitz's jaw was slack as he sent confused glances between the two. Clint successfully kept himself from laughing, but he was reminded of how the recruits used to look at them in the good old days.

"This is SHIELD 218 telling all other forces to fall back," Coulson said into the plane's com unit. "Repeat, fall back."

"And what about us?" May asked from the cockpit, keeping her course steady.

"We're gonna finish this," Coulson replied.

Clint noticed the man's fist tighten at his side.

May nodded from where she sat. "Good."

* * *

Hunter winced as the kettle whistled, startling him out of a daze. He hadn't known what to do – he couldn't stand looking at Bobbi's still form for another moment, but neither could he just leave her. So, since she was still in the common area, for observation until the labs and medical area were cleaned up, he'd made a compromise with himself and walked over to the kitchen, because he was hungry, and why not? Bobbi would want him to-

He shuddered. Not least because it was the same way he'd thought about Hartley and Idaho after their run in with Creel all those months ago.

"I can't talk about her like she's dead yet-at _all_," he growled to himself. He grabbed a mug and teabag and had just turned off the stove when he reconsidered. He left the mug on the counter and grabbed a beer from the fridge instead and retreated to the farthest corner of the kitchen, where a small table was set up for meals.

He cracked the bottle open on the table's edge and took a long swig, then let his head nod forward. It had all gone to shit, and there Bobbi was, her usual selfless-even-though-she'd-never-show-it self, still recovering. Hunter had seen her bounce back from breakups (with himself, he admitted) and bad injuries, but never had he seen her so _beaten_.

The obvious marks were there – her lung and broken bones – but it was the psychological damage he was worried about. Simmons had informed him the injuries to her hand had been made with what appeared to be needles. It was no secret that Bobbi hated needles – she stayed away from the medical wing when she could, and always refused painkillers if possible, unless she could take them orally. And for Ward to discover that weakness, not only discover it but _take advantage_ of it? Hunter was hating the man more and more each day.

And that wasn't even mentioning the many hours she'd spent there, the twisted words her kidnappers more than likely spoke to her to cut deep. Bobbi had always been one to bottle up her feelings…

Hunter wished he knew what they'd said to her, but at the same time he was afraid of finding out what exactly that was.

He took another swig of beer, a little too large, and coughed into his fist. Clearing his throat he took another, smaller sip.

His eyes took in the dark grey stone wall, examining the cracks and crevices as he only could while mildly drunk. His cheekbone rested on one hand and his eyes drifted shut.

_"Bobbi!"_

_ A gunshot, adrenaline pumping, red blood, dead blue eyes, falling, spiraling..._

Hunter shot up, knocking over his beer and spilling amber liquid all over the table.

"Shit," he muttered, hurriedly setting the bottle upright and going to get a rag.

Most of the bottle was spilled, but the mess was cleaned up quickly. Hunter looked mournfully at the few centimeters left in the bottle, downed the last of it, and yawned, his eyes feeling heavy.

He set the empty bottle on the counter and turned, planning on returning to Bobbi's side, but paused when he saw a familiar face by her bedside already.

Jemma was sitting in the seat he'd occupied for most of the evening, her cardigan rumpled as he'd never seen it before and her eyes puffy and red. She was whispering something to the unconscious blonde, and even though Hunter was _very_ interested in what she was saying, he skirted the edge of the room and snuck out to his bunk. If Jemma was having a moment he wasn't going to interfere, not when he suspected the cause of her tears was on a Quinjet heading to the Iliad to stop the Inhumans. Bobbi had developed an "older sister" type vibe with the young Brit, and Hunter couldn't bring himself to interrupt.

Instead he planned on changing into more comfortable clothes and freshening up a bit before heading back. He was still in his tactical suit, and he knew exactly what Bobbi would have said had she been awake. "Get out of here and take a shower! You stink!"

The thought brought a real smile to his face for the first time in a while and Hunter didn't feel as guilty as he knew he should have when he found himself collapsing on his bed and falling into a troubled sleep.

* * *

There was a flurry of activity as the Quinjet landed, the agents strapping on gear and sliding on gloves. Natasha checked her Widow's Bites were secure on her wrists and slid her fingers over her leg, feeling the concealed daggers hidden there.

"We don't know the size of the force we're up against, but priority one is saving the crew of the ship," Coulson said, checking his own gun. "Find them, free them. Hawkeye, I'd like you to lead a team to the lower levels and work your way up while another team starts at the top and works down."

Clint nodded, and caught Natasha's eye. She blinked in assent, tilting her head ever so slightly. With so many less experienced agents it only made sense to split the two of them up.

He slipped his pistol in the waist of his pants, giving orders as he did so. "Black Widow, May, head to operations; take control of the ship's functionality."

Natasha looked to May and nodded, seeing the determined look on the older woman's face. Just then Fitz spoke up from his place at the computer.

"Sir, um, Skye's last message just came through. It reads: 'Modified crystals lethal – HVAC room.'"

"Does she mean the Terrigen crystals that release the Mist?" Coulson asked.

"Yes," Fitz answered, spinning his chair around, "but "modified" and "lethal"."

Clint snorted at the Scot's tone and Natasha sighed, shaking her head. Coulson had told them what he knew about the crystals and the 'mist' Skye had gone through (which, admittedly, wasn't much), but if Skye said they were lethal it meant she'd seen them in action. And if the Inhumans had the crystals in the HVAC room…

"And the HVAC room controls the ship's ventilation," May said, speaking aloud what they were all thinking. If the crystals were broken and released the Mist everyone on the ship would be dead.

"Ah, so that's what this little mutiny's all about," Cal said, still nonchalant despite the soldiers gearing up around him. "Gas them all. See what shakes loose."

"Not if I get to her first," Coulson stated darkly.

"Oh no, not you, Phil," Cal laughed, standing even as the agents on either side of him stood as well, guns at the ready. "This is a family matter. My wife, my responsibility."

He faced Coulson, a wry smile working its way across his face. "You just find those crystals and leave her to me."

Natasha narrowed her eyes at the man, even as Clint tensed up beside her. Coulson looked back to May, who scoffed. "You brought him," she pointed out.

"Fitz, you're with me, heading toward HVAC," Coulson said, drawing his ICER. Fitz scrambled for a case beside him, and hefted it into his arms, face set.

"Ready to go, sir," he said with a nod.

"Alright everyone, move out," Coulson said as he led the way down the ramp at the back of the Quinjet.

May and Natasha hung back, following the others out. The men went aft, the women starboard. May led, scanning the tower before them for hostiles, but the deck of the Iliad was deserted.

"You know the layout of the ship?" May asked.

"Not the Iliad specifically, but I ran a mission or two off of the Odyssey before it was decommissioned," Natasha answered, thinking back to the months she'd spent on the aircraft carrier a few years prior.

"Fury used the same specs for both ships," May said with a nod. "So Ops should be in the same location as on the Odyssey. You take the bow entrance and I'll take stern?"

"Fine by me," Natasha said, grinning. She had to admit, she missed formal missions. The raiding parties the Avengers went on were more or less guerrilla warfare, and _not_ Natasha's cup of tea. "After this we should catch up," she said as they jogged to the entrance. "You know, maybe take a day off."

"I can count the days I've taken off during my career at SHIELD on one hand," May scoffed back, keeping an eye on the cameras swiveling on the watchtower. "Not that I would say no to a couple more."

Natasha grinned at that. She and May had always had that in common – all work, little play. The most "vacation" either of them had gotten was really not-very-well-imposed suspension under Fury's orders after bad injuries, but even then it wasn't really a day off. "Sick days" were usually spent locked in the medical wing of the Triskelion or asleep in bed.

"Meet you on the inside?" she asked May as they raised their guns together. May nodded, a grim smile pulling at her lips, and Natasha grinned back as they burst through the door, guns at the ready.

* * *

Clint led the small team of agents through the depths of the ship, the actual leader, an Agent Morgan, covering the rear. They strategically checked every room, sweeping the lower levels thoroughly and efficiently. It was eerily empty, save one room in the back of a lab where three scientists were sheltered, with only lab instruments as their weapons.

"Oh thank heaven," the woman said when they identified as SHIELD. "We thought we were going to be hiding here for a long while until they found us. We wouldn't have even known there was danger if Agent Weaver hadn't sent us a message…"

She trailed off, looking back to the men standing behind her.

"Are the hostiles contained?" one of them asked, still fingering the large beaker he'd set on the counter beside him.

"Not yet, but others are working on it," Clint said, gesturing to them to follow him out of the room. "We're looking for the rest of the crew, do you know where they'd be?"

The third man spoke up. "Well the most secure area on the ship is the cells on the detention level. I would start there... Uh, should we bring our research? It's backed up on the secure servers, but if they're with HYDRA-"

"They're not HYDRA, and I'm pretty sure they don't care about your research" Agent Morgan cut in, "But we need to get moving. Tight schedule and all that. Head out!"

The agents led the way out and up to the detention level. Clint remembered the layout of the ship from a previous mission and, pulling up the schematics in his mind's eye, realized the HVAC room was only a couple corridors away. He started that way – the agents would be fine by themselves. Five of them plus himself was just overkill.

"Morgan?" he said on coms.

"Yes Barton?"

"I'm gonna cover HVAC from this end, see if Coulson needs any help as he's only got Fitz for backup."

"If you think he needs it, sir," Morgan said, and Clint rolled his eyes. It wasn't that Coulson needed it – more that Clint already felt responsible for the man's first death and he sure as _hell_ wasn't going to let him die again.

"Affirmative."

"Porter, cover our six," Morgan ordered one of the other agents.

"Yes sir," Porter said before the coms went silent again.

Clint made his way down the halls, following the turns he remembered led to the HVAC room. He heard footsteps running down the hall around the corner from him and hung back, waiting until they'd entered the room to move forward. It would be easier to take anyone out if they were in the wide open room.

"What the hell took you so long?" he heard from up ahead from a familiar voice. Clint peeked into the HVAC room just as Coulson replied to the tall African American man.

"It's a big boat. With poor signage," he said, sounding frustrated. Clint laughed, straightening up and walking into the room. Coulson looked over his shoulder at him and pursed his lips together, probably knowing Clint was remembering their first op in Bangladesh together where he got lost in the city they were scoping out. He'd used the same excuse then, and it had been just as ridiculous.

"That no-eyed guy keeps popping in here, trying to get at these crystals," Mack said, gesturing to a heavy-looking chest behind him. "If he breaks them-"

"-everyone's a statue, we heard," Coulson finished, nodding. "Fitz-"

"On it," the engineer said, his arms laden with metal plates of hardware he started affixing to the walls.

"Want some help?" Clint asked Fitz, the kid looking surprised at the question, though he recovered quickly.

"I need these spread around the room – put this one by the fan, left side," he said, handing Clint one of the two plates he had left. "They're fit with strong magnets, so just stick it on the wall."

Clint did as requested and jogged over to affix the metal plate to the wall.

"Thanks, but I'll stick with the axe," Mack said, weighing an ICER in his palm. "Ricochets in here will be bad and trust me – you _will_ miss."

"Right," Coulson said, a frown on his face, stowing his own ICER away.

"Is 'No Eyes' the teleporter you mentioned, Coulson?" Clint asked, raising an eyebrow. The Director had briefly mentioned the Inhuman who could appear and disappear at will while explaining Calvin Johnson's involvement with the Inhumans.

"That's him. His name's Gordon," Coulson confirmed.

"What are those anyway?" Mack asked as Fitz ran back to them, grabbing a thick tablet out of the backpack he'd brought.

"Quantum field disruptors," he answered, turning it on. "Should contain him here if he comes back."

"Yeah, of course. Why didn't I think of that," Mack said with a huff as Clint chuckled behind him. Even spending days around Tony Stark and Bruce Banner didn't mean he would ever understand the science behind most SHIELD gadgets.

"It's okay, you've been busy and you're not a quantum physicist," Fitz said, running over to close the door to the HVAC room. "It's completely understandable."

"Jiaying's not the only one who can set a trap. You know, I batted over four hundred in Little League," Coulson remarked, grabbing a wrench from a nearby pile of boxes and weighing it in his hands.

"I don't think that's how Little League works, Coulson," Clint stated, pulling out a single escrima stick from the side of his quiver. You never knew when you would need a blunt weapon, and as shooting arrows would be relatively ineffective against someone who could teleport, using Bobbi's favorite method of fighting would prove as effective as he could get against 'Gordon'.

* * *

Natasha took out another Inhuman, scoffing at their fighting ability. What use was being a human chameleon if you couldn't tread softly? The man's footsteps had given him away within seconds and it was almost laughable how easy he was to take down.

She headed around the corner just in time to see May take down the last man standing between them and the control room. Then a thin blond walked around a corner down the hallway from him and May instantly sprang to a crouch from where she was on the floor.

"Where's Skye, Lincoln?" she growled, getting to her feet. Natasha wondered how May knew the man, but readied herself to take him out if he somehow managed to take down May.

"I don't know!" he exclaimed, raising his hands defensively. "Honestly! I was going to help them – Jiaying and Gordon- I don't know why they're doing this but it _has_ to stop."

Natasha recognized the desperate tone in his voice – one that rang of being betrayed and lied to. He was definitely not on the side of the other Inhumans, but that didn't mean he was going to side with SHIELD.

"Then help us," Natasha said, taking a step forward. "We're trying to help, and we don't want any more conflict then necessary. Help us take the control room and then we can find Skye."

Lincoln looked at her with distrust she completely understood. From what she understood the Inhumans were generally private people who preferred not to be disturbed, which was exactly what SHIELD had done.

"If I help you," he began cautiously, measuring his words, "what else will I have to do with SHIELD?"

"Nothing you don't want to," May said, standing up. "It's your decision. After we're done here you can go and live your life as you did before."

"And how do I know you won't stab me in the back?" he asked, his fists clenching.

"You have my word."

It didn't look like Lincoln thought that was enough, but Natasha decided to speak up. They'd already wasted enough time talking.

"You can debate the semantics of a contract later. Right now, it's a simple question – will or won't you help us?"

He glared at her for a moment, not that it held much weight compared to that of any of her usual companions (Steve and Thor both had their own unique ways of showing anger and disappointment even without the use of their super strength or hammer respectively). Then Lincoln dropped his gaze with a sigh and nodded.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked.

* * *

**Chapter 16! Finished! Posted! Yay!**

**I have no excuse, other than it was Clint's fault. I got to the point where everyone was getting off the plane and doing their things and Clint was all like "but I don't want to do that" and "No, I'd rather do this" even though he wasn't supposed to.**

**Though, I suppose, I do have a couple of excuses. My 40-hour work week this summer was draining, then I came back to college where I'm taking seven classes, working a job, and I'm vice president of Geek Life (yes you read that correctly), so I've had so much to do. Thank you all for sticking with this story regardless of what's delayed these chapters, and thanks as well to any new readers coming in for the first time!**

**So yeah, I've so very sorry for taking a long hiatus with this, but I'm hoping to be back to a (more) regular schedule, even with Nanowrimo coming up. Granted, there's only going to be a max of 2 more chapters in this story, as I already feel like I'm drawing it out pretty long (with 1 chapter for every other episode, but now 7 for the finale? Yikes!)**

**After those last two chapters it will probably be November and I will be working on National Novel Writing Month, but after that I'll be back to writing (hopefully, though exams are right away in December) a couple of oneshots from Age of Ultron in this same AU. **

**But you should also keep an eye out for any oneshots I'll post based on what's going on in Season 3 (I love it so far. So much love. And sadness. But mostly love.) I already posted one about Fitz at the end of 3x01 called "Never Gonna Give You Up" and one about Skye/Daisy after 3x02 entitled "Self-Immolation".  
**

**So anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and look forward to another definitely before Halloween/All Hallows Day.**

**Thank you ALL for reading/reviewing and following. You're all amazing. Thank you all for your support and love and for being awesome members of this fandom!**

**Oh yeah, and FYI: I also [finally] got on AO3, so I'll start crossposting things there as well, if that is more your desired platform. :) **


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